So I’m thinking, Sundays. Sundays can be serious, and the rest of the week will just be crazy ole’ me. I’m really hoping that most of the time it’s like when you get your head stuck in the toilet seat – you know, NOT funny for you, but everyone else thinks its fucking hilarious, but we’ll see.
Ya’ll I need a shrink, bad.
If last week’s meltdown wasn’t enough to convince me, then there’s no hope.
But I don’t have a shrink, and I don’t have a lot of extra time, either I’ve got the kids or I’m ferrying them where they need to be so that I can not have the kids. Where in that am I going to put an appointment?? I don’t have time to screw around with the wrong kind of shrink for me, I need to pre-screen that shit.
So, as is my way, I concocted an imaginary conversation that I need to have with perspective shrinks’ receptionists..
Receptionist: Hello Shrink's office!
Me: Hi, I need a shrink, but I need you to answer a couple of questions before I decide if you're shrink is the shrink for me.
Receptionist: Umm.. ok??
Me: Can I cuss to you shrink, not at him, just to him? I mean, is he easily offended?
Receptionist: Umm.. I suppose??
Me: Ok, and is he pro crazy monkey sex??
Receptionist: I'm sorry??
Me: I mean, not that I'm a sex addict, because I'm not, I just really like sex, and I want a shrink who approves of that.. Fuck. I sound like a sex addict. Nevermind.
See the problem here??
