(Un)still life

 It's Tuesday morning and I overslept ... well, really I underslept and then tried to get the adequate amount of sleep during the time I should have been in the shower and getting ready for work.

But because I am shallow and girly, I didn't skip the all-important morning grooming extravaganza and rather than hurry through the only interesting part of my day ("Hmmm, what can I wear that will make me feel happy/like Nora Charles/Kitty Carlisle/comfortable/cute without pushing the limits of good taste/dress code/ass-sizereality?") I took my normal amount of time -- even I admit that a twenty-five minute shower is excessive, but there you have it -- and so of course I was late leaving the house....

... which can only mean that I missed the bus (ya'll, I have literally Missed The Bus!) (hee) and I got to the train station late and there was no parking (!) and I missed my train, and I missed the following train, and at some point I thought I'd reach this Zen state where I was completely the bobbing cork and would have all this inner poise about being late to my place of employment. Instead I was channeling Linda Hamilton in the Terminator, practically mowing people down trying to get up the stairs and onto 7th street in the direction of my office. Ya'll don't mind me! I love when you stroll and meander and block the sidewalk and sometimes just stop for no reason whatsoever as you are walking! Love you! Now I walk over you!

Hello doctor. I have this slight tic ... can you fix it?

I met someone today on the train who is a psychologist. It was pre-coffee, so I was having a hard time communicating. But it did leave me with some questions. For example, is a psychologist really a doctor or is it just somebody who is paid to give advice without any real medical or scientific training? Because I took Psych 101 in college and all I learned was the term "bunny boiler" which may not be a widely-used bonafide psychological term, but if you've seen Fatal Attraction, and I believe you have, then you know of what I speak.

And do you suppose a psychologist ever gets tired of people telling them the same problem over and over and they want to shake their patients by the shoulders and tell them to get over it already?

And is there a kind of psychologist, perhaps a certain discipline of psychology or something, who can listen to me for an hour at the end of which time he will present me with a list of things to do to make my life perfect, preferably in bullet-point format? Maybe a powerpoint presentation? Yes! A powerpoint presentation!

Perhaps I am really on to something here.

Perhaps I need to caffeinate.

Note to Guy On Sidewalk: I love that you are committed to sign-holding, but please move out of the way for pedestrians. Especially late ones who take 25-minute showers and are in fact wearing one brown sock and one black one. Whoops!