A good cry on the train

I said after the first ten minutes of talking that ten years ago I had wasted the first eight sessions with a therapist trying to be entertaining but that I was not going to do that this time.
"Too late" he said, scribbling, scribbling, "Go on."

A good sit down with a therapist can be like enjoying a perfect slice of cake, with the perfect scenery in perfect silence..

Where was I?

I decided, for whatever odd reason, that yesterday would be a good day to organize the photos (like the one above) if I am ever going to get a book of them done.
Not a good idea. As I just said to Dee, elsewhere, these last eight years have been both better and worse than I had remembered. By noon, I could hardly get myself outside (and it's Beautiful Weather here) I stumbled through a short run, decided what to make for dinner, took a nap (what?) wrote some correspondence, made and ate dinner and watched the entire two house Elementary Season Finale before the dark thoughts fled.
I woke up at three AM. (thanks, nap)
Wrote some really good things in my journal.
Laid back down and had both the craziest dream (see the dream thread) and the deepest sleep I've had in ages.
Joe(really. Like setting cement)Nation