This Could Be Dangerous

Look out world!

I am hooking up with a therapist. This could be dangerous.

I had two things primarily on my mind at the beginning of this supreme vacation. I kept them to myself until I could actually say I accomplished them.

One was lining things up with a therapist.

I am looking for happy. I am looking for resolution. I finally realized (admitted) that these things cannot happen until I fix my brain. So I am taking the plunge.

Turns out I found one right here in my home town. Doesn't really matter though because all therapy these days is remote. I was somewhat surprised at the number (around 90% or more) of therapists who are not taking new patients, and the number (100% ?) who are doing it remotely. Covid has truly fucked up the world.

I would prefer face to face. Then I can use all my charm, intelligence and wit to lie to them and prove what a great guy I am. (For the uninitiated - that was a fucking joke).

I really would prefer face to face but I will settle for ZoomPsych.

Got a good vibe from this woman through emails - I really laid it on thick in my initial email, probably came across as a drooling catatonic. She responded that we could work together, I responded that I was glad my email did not send her screaming into the hills. She responded "I've been at this for over 20 years so it takes A LOT to scare me." I like it.

Unraveling the poisoned tendrils of my brain is roughly akin to solving the mystery of the Gordian Knot. She has her work cut out for her. But I am psyched and ready.

"To boldly go where no man has gone before................"

The second initiative during this supreme vacation was to get shit rolling - I mean really moving - on getting this house off our backs.

 I have two compnaies lined up to give us estimates for the real dirty work that needs to be done. Our basement is a mess. A royal, fucking mess. Mold, insulation hanging down from the ceiling - you get the picture. We also have insulation hanging in shreds in the attic from when we had a squirrel infestation.

The biggest news is that we finally found a "guy" to deal with all the handyman stuff - and he's our next door neighbor. This was a gift from Jesus and totally random.

Carol was out getting the mail and had a conversation with the woman across the street. Somewhere during the conversation the Handyman Shortage came up and this woman told Carol she uses this guy for all her handyman stuff and he does a great job.

Are you fucking kidding me? Jesus was a carpenter - he obviously sympathized with our plight.

Carol called the guy, he came over yesterday and told us he can do everything we want him to do. We have certain things we want done by Thanksgiving because we want to impress Keith and Krista and Craig and Amanda. We want them to walk in, fall to their knees in shock, get up and think: "Holy shit - Mom and Dad finally got off their asses and made this house liveable again. They are true geniuses and deserving of all respect and glory."

He thinks he can get that stuff done by Thanksgiving.

So there you have it.

I wanted to come out of this vacation with a strong sense of accomplishment. Forward movement. Confidence.

I have succeeded.

I renewed efforts to work on my brain on my own. I landed a therapist. The house will really start rolling soon.

The only other thing we need is to win $200,000 in the lottery so we can pay off our mortgage and bank some bucks. We really do not want to move. I really want to retire.

But if that doesn't happen and everything else falls into place, we will be in great shape.

If a tree falls in the forest...........................

If my brain gets fixed, will I still be compelled to write in this Blog?

That remains to be seen.