Let’s move on from all the touchy feely Kim needs attention bullshit and have a laugh or two, shall we?

Something happened to me yesterday that would have shattered those with a weaker mental command. My first thought while I was actually standing there wondering what the fuck to do was to vent on Twitter…but I refrained. When I got home, I thought of updating my facebook page with a funny quip about my all too real let down…but then thought twice. Nope. I decided to save it for you.

Yesterday, I had an appointment with my therapist. (Yes, I still see her.) I got there a few minutes early, parked my car, put money in the meter and walked down Main Street towards her office. I smiled at the couples strolling along doing their window shopping as I looked ahead to my destination, the blue door.

When I got right up to the door, I did what I always do, I moved fast. Why? Well, because the blue door reads “Therapy Group” in big gold letters which is beside the cutest little children’s clothing store which is just down from the grocery store right in the middle of Main Street.

Now, I’m not ashamed that I, from time to time, seek the advice of a therapist. No, of course not. I just believe in quick and bold entrances. So, when I grabbed the door knob and twisted it hastily, ready to hurl myself inside to safe anonymity, I was shocked to find that not only was the blue door locked, but that my face was nearly upon it.

And there were people walking by behind me. People who were probably reading the sign and seeing my face pressed up to the glass thinking, “Oh, hell..they’d better let her in.”

Let me reiterate for the record: THE DOOR TO MY THERAPIST WAS LOCKED. That fact alone could send someone into therapy.

So, what the hell was I going to do now? KNOCK? The door is never locked and her office is up a whole flight of stairs. She’d never even hear me!

I’ll admit, I thought about it…for like a nanosecond. Picture me in huge sunglasses knocking on the big blue door marked “THERAPY” on bustling Main Street. Yeah, no.

I did what any of you would have done; I marched right into that darling, overpriced, children’s clothing store and posed as a shopper while I figured out what to do. I came up with a plan which was to not fall apart or even resemble falling apart. I called the doctor, got her voice mail and left a message. That was as far as my plan went so I took myself home.

As I was driving back to my house along the windy country roads, I thought about what could have happened if I was a weaker individual or maybe just at a needier point in my life. Would I have knocked on the door? Pounded? Shrunk down with my head and in my hands on Main Street and totally lost my shit over the rejection of the one person who is supposed to be there for me (especially when I have an appointment and am PAYING her)???

Well, as you can see I did not fall apart on Main Street yesterday. Not even close. Next time, though, I am calling ahead. And maybe parking in the alley.

Good thing I have my shit together, huh?

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