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It's a Genuine Jones
Is that what therapy really is, at bottom? Paying someone to pay focused, platonically-loving attention to my thoughts and feelings?
Who wouldn't crave that? I'm wishing it were next Wednesday already.
Meanwhile, I'm lucky to be having a faraway friend, arriving at our home on Friday eve. Friends pay attention to each other, too, so that should tide me over.
Things that don't worry me as much or sadden me as much do so in times like these: Pat's gums are deep-red. It's not fair. She flosses religiously and brushes and mouthwashes nightly and yet, she might have gum-disease. What else could it be?
Two or three times, I've had a nightmare, where I lost my teeth. It was devastating each time. Please, God, don't hurt Pat's gums and teeth further. Please let the doctor give her a non-surgical cure on Monday. Amen.
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