I want to thank you, fans, for all the emails about my recent post: 'A Tarquin Churchwell Christmas Carol.'
The note that made me puke the most came from reader Sally B. She wrote, "You know what kills me about people like you? That you actually think you are UNIQUE."
How deep. My first thought was to email back: "F*** you!" I felt like sitting her down, tying her to a chair with heavy rope, and not letting her up until she 'understood' why she was being a dum dum.
Hehehe.
In therapy, my therapist sits still. He doesn't moe around or talk much, except for an occasional comment about TV. I hate the patient/wise Yoda relationship. I hate insight. I think I could overcome my fears if my therapist just came out and said, "Holy shit! You are nuts. But not as fucking crazy as me trying to find meaning in another rerun of Seinfeld. Let's take a handful of Abilify and go out for burgers."
I understand, Sally B.
