I’ve been putting this off for a while. It’s hard to see the point of a pointless conversation with your stupid shrink when you don’t even have a problem. Doesn’t everyone fall in love with their farmer? And, if not, why not? Have you no heart/taste buds?
But, Dr. Typepad doesn’t appreciate it when I blow off our appointments, and he keeps charging me anyway, so here I am. Maybe, if things go well, he’ll fix my little banner problem on my About page someday.
Him: So, how have things been going since our last visit?
Me: (whispering) This room isn’t bugged, is it?
Him: Everything you say here is completely confidential.
Me: Okay, phew. So, I’m still in love.
Him: You don’t say.
Me: Here’s what I’ve tried so far. Avoiding eye contact. Oh, and running away from any attempt at conversation. Making up crazy stories in my head. Even burning everything I cook. Nothing’s working.
Him: Have you considered talking to anyone about your feelings?
Me: What? NO. Feelings are stupid. I hate feelings.
Him: Crushes are completely normal.
Me: A crush? (snorts) What am I, twelve? Don’t answer that.
Him: Crushes don’t discriminate by age or marital status.
Me: Stop trying to trick me! So, what are my options? Besides talking, I mean. Because no one is telling anybody jack shit.
Him: Well, you could wait it out.
Me: You mean, do nothing?
Him: Not nothing, exactly. You would consciously try not to do anything that might encourage your crush.
Me: So, like, don’t bring the Farmer cookies?
Him: Right. Do you bring him cookies?
Me: No. Pffft. What do I look like, the town prostitute? God. But, so, what if that still doesn’t work?
Him: You could always quit the CSA.
Me: What? No. They already cashed my check for the summer.
Him: I bet they’d refund your money.
Me: You’re a horrible, horrible man, and I hate you. (storms out)
Something tells me my banner isn’t going to get fixed anytime soon.