woke up with a headache..must be from having to sleep curled up next to the nipple slasher..the stress of a re occurrence probably affected my brain.
why or why do they all have to like me so much??? everywhere i go i feel guilty because they want me but i can't stay. my life is moving from one group to another, spreading myself around as much as i can.
maybe i should try being more like an asshole so they don't care if i am here or there.
and who names a vibrating, anxiety ridden freakoid dog "zen" anyway???
how about....Vibratron, Hysterio, Buzzaroo???
one of my co-oworkers asked who is our animal psychotherapist?
i said i was.
here is a typical therapy session...
i walk into a room. dog launches himself at me, i bleed profusely from his dagger like claws while trying to get hold of his collar. i swear loudly (owwww...jeesus frucking chrise that frucking hurts, sit and hold still!)
dog sits but is ready to explode, i sit on the bed and invite him up and wrap my bleeding arms to confine him in a wrestlers hold. he kisses my face, i tell him he's a puke. and when he settles down, i let go and pet him. now he is calm enough to notice my wounds, which he wants to lick but i say no....god only knows where that mouth has been. eventually he settles, curls up with me and we both fall asleep. i wake up occasionally and check he is wrapped up well in our fleece because i know from phoebe that these crazy german pinchers shiver with cold very easily. the rest of the night is incident free.
day three of therapy, somewhat not quite successfully finally complete.
and this is why i might actually need a real life therapy degree.
i bet real life therapists don't have to bleed.