I'm working through some things, you know?
I also called Jewish Family and Children's Services to talk about getting counseling, and we had the usual daft conversation where they tell you what the flat rate is, and then you tell them what your income is, and they name a sliding scale, but you still have to pay more if you want a licensed professional rather than an intern. (I shouldn't bitch. I may be an intern soon.) And I told them that I would discuss the rates with my husband, and I hung up, and then it occurred to me that, rather than taking on some dutiful new weekly expense, I would rather spend the money on lipstick, and a gym membership, and burritos with friends.
This seems terribly improper to a Northern California Hippie Puritan such a myself.
Tough.
The Balabusta is going through a small out-of-sequence mid-life crisis. After years of clinging to a sheer cliff-face of various teaching jobs, I've reached a point where I want. I want to dance. I want to have children, and grow tomatoes. I want to send my books out into the world, if it means publishing them on Kindle myself. I'm fed up with being fed up. I want to take care of myself and go after the things that are important to me.
Somehow, and this may be entirely counter-intuitive, picking up another set of responsibilities I don't want--this time to a pricey therapist--just doesn't seem right right now.
I'll give it a month.
I'm letting out my inner Grace Hanadarko. Hopefully minus the binge drinking and self-endangering behavior, you know?
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