Yesterday was therapist day. I see this quiet man who usually says all of three sentences; one of which involves asking me if I'm experiencing any side effects from the happy pills he has me on. Yesterday was different, though. He's surprisingly intrigued by my future wedding. He wanted to know everything...if we had started to plan it...how far we've come and most importantly if I had found my dress yet.
I said no...that I was waiting for my best friend to fly in from Middle Earth in March and he gasped. I asked him why and he said he had heard that the dress took months and months to alter and fiddle with and that I needed to hop on that train pretty darn quickly.
When your shrink is stressing you out does that mean you need to up your dosage?...
I call this a web of love. Too much?