I will try the hardest I can not to bore you.

Monday: Basil Fawlty levels of stress going to renew a residence card as an expat. Stress was unwarranted. The most mundane of tasks feel more daunting to me than bleeding my entire psychology, warts and all, especially the warts, to total strangers online who then of course come up with a sometimes rather harsh verdict based on one post. That I don’t mind. I mind how stressed I get over paper work. It’s seriously messed up my entire adult life. I could have a better life if I didn’t have formphobia.

Tuesday: Lots of sessions with people. One free one, cause a human being was longing for death. No surprise as to why. He’s an experienced psychotherapist in a post-genocide country. Not mid-genocide, it’s not Israel.

Wednesday: At least three wholesome sessions. In my twenties the part of my life I hated was my job. Now I love my job, most of the time, and hate all the other parts, except for my son.

Thursday: Short working day. Thursday afternoon and evening have belonged to my son for more than three years now.

One 30 something woman felt a lot better after I unleashed some very deep empathy and my own therapeutic style on her.

That was amazing, but her life’s situation underscores how disconnected people are from other people. Actually her story laid bare almost everything wrong with our culture today.

The troubled person I had a free session with on Tuesday reports he is feeling much better and sends me picture of activities that strike me as very nurturing and healthy.

To be with my son is amazing

Friday: A repeat of Thursday, but with clients less open to being transformed by me, which I respect and I don’t try, I just listen, which is a combo of what they need most and the maximum they can handle from me without pushing me away. If that makes sense to you, you know psychology.

I didn’t mention how much time goes into writing historical-psychological posts for you guys, because I also don’t mention I breathe and take showers. It’s just something I do to sustain my own life. Production for me is maintenance.

You can hate your life and be pretty active and caring.

And it’s fair to say am not being that altruistic since having some positive impact on others is my balm for progressively stinkier wounds.