***
Too Lazy to see the Shrink

Ugh. I cannot believe my doctor thinks my depression is severe enough that I need to see a shrink. Sometimes the neurosis gets really shitty (like now) and I can barely think straight, much less want to do anything (aside from lying on my bed and feeling like alcohol but knowing that I really shouldn't because it only makes it worse.) But really, most of the time it’s not a problem getting it under control.

At any rate, my doctor gave me this address for a clinic and the directions to get there, and I nearly died when I realized what he was referring me to.

I know it’s terribly childish, but it’s just that there are all these unwanted negative connotations linked to the Mental Health Institute. When I thought about it, I was like, shit, I’m really not that mental enough to warrant going to Woodbridge! (Woodbridge hospital is synonymous with the madhouse. Which I suppose is a misconception since loads of depressed people who can’t afford private shrinks go there) Anyway, I’m no fan of government healthcare, Plus, I don’t think psychiatry would help. You just end up ranting and raving and paying unnecessary money, and at the end of the day, you don’t really get cured.

***
Well, Mr. Big is, apparently, really considering the threesome with a whore. Now while I said it was nice of him to suggest it a few days ago, I seriously doubt I’m particularly game for it currently. I had been pleased when he tried to get my attention with the suggestion after a week and a half of blowing him off, but, while I won’t say I’m not pleased with this particular state of affairs, I can’t say I’m entirely looking forward to it either.

But whatever.

*feels sick*

xoxox