Ch-ch-ch-changes

I go to therapy on Tuesdays. Mostly for the whole Mom dying thing and partly to overcome my stagefright, but generally because I have a hard time getting my feelings out. Apparently, I am emotionally constipated.

My therapist's name is Alice, and she is a lovely older Jewish woman whom I would very much like to befriend, but I'm told that such things are discouraged. So, instead, I just tell her about how much I drink and how sometimes I like to kiss girls and how I'm mad that when I try to talk to my Mom in heaven, she doesn't always answer because I believe she is too busy bowling with her best friend Judy. (Remind me to tell you about Judy one day.)

And I also tell her what a dickwad Roommate Jeremy is. She's very understanding and believes that Roommate Jeremy is, in fact, emotionally fucked up. (My words, not hers). She wants to write him a prescription for a good ass whooping. (Okay, again, my idea, not Alice's.)

In any case, I leave work in the middle of day to go to my session, which is weird because everyone at the office is all, "Hey, 123Valerie. Where ya goin'?"

And I'm all, "Oh, to the doctor."

And they're all, "Not feeling well? I hope you're not sick. Because Gina has that intestinal thing, and she's been out for a week. Coming out of both ends, she said. Lost a dress size, though."

"No, no. I'm fine. Just slightly depressed, disillusioned, malcontent and worried that my fear of intimacy will keep me from ever really having a fulfilling relationship. I'm gonna take some extra vitamin E and see if that helps."

Then I dash off, only to return an hour later slightly less crazy (I hope).

Today was a hard session. Well, they all are, but today we talked about how people get freaked out when I'm not my usual chipper self (i.e. sad).

Case in point: Megan Jane's boyfriend, Jason, who saw me walking down the street one day when I was a bit down and immediately called Megan Jane because he thought I was on drugs. He maintains that my pupils were huge and I had tract marks in my arms and had just given a construction worker a blowjob for $20, but I think it was because I was kind of mopey. (Part of that story is true. You can decide which part. Isn't that fun? It's like those "choose your own adventure" books.)

But, I came back to the office today to find an e-mail and picture from my dear friend Theresa.

This is Theresa the dear friend, Daisy the dog and Sunflower, well, the sunflower.

Isn't that just the best? Terri and her fiancee are glass blowers in Colorado and you should visit their Web site and buy stuff. Because they are getting married in October, and though 123Valerie might be cheap, weddings are NOT, people.

While there is much rejoicing for them, I also have to note that my dear friend Kirstin has decided to get a divorce. Which breaks my heart for her, but also fills me with hope because she is lovely woman who deserves a man on her level and it will be fun to watch her journey to find him. My Mom would tell her, "Pull up your socks and get in there."

She really would, Kirstin, but why your socks are falling down and where exactly you need to go remain a mystery. I think it was her way of saying "Keep fighting the good fight." Or something like that. Maybe.

But, my point is that there's a lot of change in the air. Some of it makes you want to jump up and down with happiness, and some of it makes you want to jump off of a bridge. At the end of the day, I think we can all count our blessings and be thankful that I don't have to put up with Roommate Jeremy any more.

Tell me what you are thankful for in the Comments section. Whoever is filled with the most gratitude wins a date with the hot and newly-single Kirstin.