Posted February 28th, 2003 by Michelle

I am about to make my first actual foray into “therapy”. I am nervous about it, nervous mostly because I don’t like the idea of anyone asking me why I am doing it. In the same way that I don’t like being asked why I am a vegetarian. You never have one vegetarian asking it of another. You always have an omnivore placing the question, always with a hint of disdain, or at the very least, with the need to have something proved to them. Regardless of the answer I give, the person always says “yeah, I don’t eat much red meat” or “I tried it and got really fat and unhealthy” or “blah blah blah blah blah” which is what it really sounds like to me. Because really, I care not in the least about what other people eat. I never say to an omnivore, “Why do you eat meat? What made you decide to eat meat? Yeah, I ate meat once, when I was thirteen, but blah blah blah.” Yes, I would love to live in a world where slaughterhouses didn’t exist, but as long as they do, I will have my quiet rebellion and give the finger to the next person who asks me why.

I don’t know why I feel as defensive about seeing an analyst. I don’t want my search for knowledge to be judged in a similar fashion. I just… I don’t mind talking about any of it, I just find it wasteful when people ask me why. And annoying. So don’t ask me why. All twelve of you who have ever read this blog.

I made a grand return to my yoga practice today, after falling out of shoulder stand and ripping something terrible inside my wrist two weeks ago. It was not easy. I am weak, and my wrist will not let me do all of the poses. But it was terrific to be back. I saw both of the owners of the studio, a lovely couple of ladies, and just seeing them made my day notably better. Also, I am on the tail end of three days off, so I am rested, and, believe it or no, contented.

A note to my upstairs neighbor: I don’t like you much. You play bad music loudly, you sing along loudly, you *actually* played “Stairway” on your loud electric guitar the other night, and I don’t think you were kidding. You had band practice, such as it was, until 2 AM Monday morning, and you played bad music. Maybe I would like you if I met you, but first you must play something other than Soundgarden.

A note to the world: I need to fall madly in love in the next few months, madly enough that I think I could actually share an apartment with the person, because in August, the garden apartment in my building is going to be available. It’s a one bedroom, so really only big enough for me, but the garden is lovely. Zooey (my fat cat) needs some outside space in his last years, and god knows I do too.