I have done all of the things this week and I am all of the tired. It’s a good thing tomorrow is Friday. God damn it; this is Wednesday.
The brain is overheated. I have a knot in my shoulder the size of Antarctica. And those groceries aren’t going to buy themselves.
My therapist was asking me questions this morning about what I need to be able to do _______. How the hell should I know? It’s like being raised by wolves and being asked what I need to be able to act like a duck. Fucking duck lessons? Why are you asking me?
Seriously, don’t ask me anything. I’m the one who’s fucked up as a soup sandwich. I mean, holy shit. I was giving her online shopping tips. And paying her.
But you guys…Macy’s is having a pop-up sale that ends tomorrow.
Here...this is you. 
Why do therapists or psych’s always do the whole “what do you think!?” Shit?? Come on if I knew why am I here
I never know shit I mean I have idea but again I am not the pro here
You need to tell me dummy!
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I’m always asking her to clarify her questions, like I need a law degree to determine what she’s really asking.
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