Ho-ho Potato
For some stupid reason, I find myself continuously bugging Joe (yes, you, Joe) for answers to questions that he obviously cannot answer - par example: Last night I was rendez-vous'ing but had to buy a fifth of Jameson before hand, in order to... well... this is very difficult to explain without divulging the details. The point is, I needed my old standby crutch in order to get through the evening. Yes, this is hazardous. Yes, I realize this could be leading to bigger and better problems. But what's ridiculous is that I looked for both approval and disdain from Joe, who is GOING THROUGH THE SAME HORSESHIT I AM GOING THROUGH. What the hell is that all about? That's like... like... if I were a manic depressive asking a bipolar to diagnose me and, possibly, tell me how to fix it.
Now, in order to break it down - I think that I sought Joe's approval/disapproval because (1) we laugh later about the disapproval and (2) he doesn't really judge. If I were to, say, call one of my married school chums - well, then I'd be in a world of scolding on so many levels.
So, Joe - I salute you. For being an enabler and disabler. Wait - can you be that? You're the psychologist. You tell me.
2005-03-29 | 11:21 a.m.
