Monthly Archives: October 2016


Today I worked a 14 hour day. I’m not necessarily complaining; it was my own doing. Those last few hours were due to my avoiding a responsibility and needing to address it before tomorrow. But here’s some other stuff.

I avoided a co-worker for the majority of the day because I had a gift for him and I wanted to leave it for him as a surprise instead of physically hand it to him. When I had finally resigned to presenting it in person, he was gone for the day. In the one moment I realized needing a friend was more important than surprising said friend, he was gone.

On Friday a girl I work with asked me about “taking work home,” by which she meant the suicidal kind. I didn’t carry that with me all weekend, but I relayed that thought to her psychiatrist today and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since.

I’m “on call,” which means if there’s a crisis, they page me. There aren’t often crises. I updated (re: completely redid) the on-call book. It was out of date, it was falling apart, it was pathetic, and it made it seem like it wasn’t something to take seriously. I’m just sad I’m the only one who noticed…or cared. I probably shouldn’t drink when I’m on call. I made an exception tonight.

I got an article in my mailbox on the ethical importance of self-care from one of my favorites at work. I almost cried. Instead I went to her and got lost in one of those hours where it’s a little bit her and a little bit me because maybe we’re both too awkward to talk about planning things outside of work. I learn a lot about me the way she talks about me. I think she learns a lot about her the way I talk about her. It’s pretty functional but a little dysfunctional. She made an IG and I had to block her because I’m not stable enough to share that shit with people I have a higher level of respect for than my own kin.

I felt more respected as an intern than as a staff clinician in the program that I’m employed. I hope when I get a degree and a license I can change positions…or else I’m just out. My manager is the only person I know of in my agency that’s all about politics and numbers and doesn’t give a fuck about people. No, thanks. (This statement is ironic because preschool teachers keep saying “no, thanks” to kids and I think it’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard a preschool teacher say. Stop being condescending to kids and act like a normal grown-up.)

End rant. For now.



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Adventures in Dating, Date #2

So. I remain unshattered.

Not that I expect to be, but that’s the fucking bar. So good luck, men of the world (read: New England?). I’ve had some great ones, so to “shatter me” would take some serious shit.

Date #2 (and 2.5) occurred over the last week, and I’m not even interested in writing about them because this whole dating thing is just dumb. What I *should* do is find someone fuckable and fuck him. Whenever I want to. Instead, I live in this weird-ass limbo place where I pretend like that’s what I’m doing, but I’m really looking for someone to hang out with who will also let me live my life the way I want to. I am legitimately the only person in the fucking universe who is looking for that. And it’s true, I don’t believe that, but I also don’t believe I’m going to find one of the other few that are also in my boat attractive. Or I think maybe I adopted this newfound mentality too goddamn late for the perfect possible “relationship.”

Fine, then, here’s the short story:

Date #2 was with a person I have pseudo-known for a year. It wasn’t until we went on a “date” that I turned into a not-date by going dutch at bill time that I realized I wasn’t down for the Drama (with a capital D). Once again, I’m not in the interest of spilling other dude’s deals into some silly blog, so I can’t say much more than that. What I can say is that I’m a therapist, and I probably have a radar for red flags, especially when they pertain to things I’ve dealt with in my professional career. I had also just watched “Better Things,” in particular the episode where Sam sees the couple that she pegged for being on their first date and intervened because she knew the guy’s life story but didn’t know a damn thing about the girl. Yeah. That’s this. I’m a great listener. But I get super bitter when the person I’m listening to isn’t ALSO a great listener.

Anyway, I heard a lot of shit that I remember half of because that’s the level of investment I have here. What I enjoyed most was going to The Pint after dinner and running into a co-worker and talking very meta about someone I’m apparently only FB friends with (but not necessarily friends with IRL because I said nothing when I realized he was one of the bartenders), and then getting asked to help someone with a stalled car and actually helping. My “date” was worried about it being a scam to get jumped and in that moment I realized what category of Worcesterite he belonged in. And I dare someone to defy my 2 categories. You’re high or you’re low and there’s no fucking middle. Well, guess what–I live in the middle of goddamn everything, so this just maybe isn’t the place for me. …but I wish it was. I really, really wish it was.

As for date #2.5 I stupidly told Kaðall Seahorse (of COURSE I made him a Viking Name!) where I would be and I’m pretty sure he showed up and waited around for me. He followed me around like a puppy dog and tried to convince me to forego work in favor of hanging out. Sorry, dude, strike 2. Work will ALWAYS win.

How do you tell someone you don’t want their Drama and maybe it’s best if they work that shit out and get back to you later?

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The Dating Game: an update

Well, thirteen followers, I know myself better than I think I know myself. I was so “sure” Órækja and I would see each other again, but I think we all know that when I “guess I’ll be seeing him again” was how I described it, I definitely wasn’t going to be seeing him again. I could choose to believe that he lost interest in me, but the truth is that neither of us really tried very hard to keep in touch. I think he gave it a solid 6 worth of effort and I probably gave it a 3. I honestly think there has to be some level of physical attraction for this kind of thing to work. Plus, he wasn’t too thrilled with my “only looking to date” goal and I wasn’t too thrilled with his “looking for a better half” goal.

That said, I did a thing I don’t typically do. I had a flash of a moment (no reference to this week’s The Flash episode intended) in which I thought about a guy who tried to date me back in like March. I turned him down because I really really really wasn’t into dating, which is pretty obvious based on the fact that I only just started two weeks ago. I can’t Viking-name him yet because I need to spend some time with him to get to know him so I can answer the questions on the Viking name-generator thing, but I assure you, I will. So anyway, I texted the dude. I said hey, I said how’s it going, I said we should catch up. He assumed I might be packing up to head back to wherever-I’m-from, which I was actually kind of impressed by his recalling. So now we have a date. I mean, we didn’t call it that. I try to avoid that word if I can (think of every time I write it here as an exercise in exposure therapy for me). But we definitely have a day and an activity planned. In town, which I kind of love because fuck the entire idea of driving to Boston to date someone.

So here’s my plea, Universe. Let this dude not suck. I’m already overlooking something that has essentially been a deal breaker for me from the inception of the thought about thinking about even considering dating (yes, that was intentionally extra-extra-meta), but look at me taking some Ciara-sized risks. Let him be relatively emotionally stable. Let him have slightly more than half a brain. Let him NOT be voting for Drumpf. Let him have at least 2-3 solid communication skills. Let him not be allergic to cats. And please, PLEASE, let him be independent. I’m hoping this former deal-breaker of a thing has helped him get to that point, but you never know.

More to come, I imagine.

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