The name of the game

I'm cured. Okay, not really. I'm still the anxious, stressed, angry and embittered person I always was, but I was able to further define my problem. I don't want to work anymore. I don't think that's a problem that is going to be fixed through psychology or Xanax. I said as much, and then asked her if she would give me $500,000. I'm a shit, even when I'm in therapy.
Overboard wrote "I think that when people feel like they are lost or missing something, it's because they know what they are missing, they know what they want, and they are frustrated that they cannot get what they want", and that really threw me for a loop. I was so wrapped up in my own unhappiness that I never gave serious thought to what it is that would make me happy because I always treat "happiness" as something utterly unattainable. What I want is to retire early with Michael. That is my dream. The best parts of my life are my weekends and evenings. I dread Mondays. I know everyone does. I'm sure most people don't want to work anymore. I realize I'm being precious. I don't care: it's what I want and it's not as insurmountable as it appears. In four years my mortgage will be paid off and I can stock shelves a few times a month to pay for groceries if I so desire.
And God made a good observation that it's all a series of revolutions. I feel relatively up and positive right now, and I'm sure a week from now I'll be despondent and on the verge of overturning my desk, keying Hummers and blowing up the Parliament buildings. I'll just have to be more aware and more patient of... me.
I can't believe my therapist wouldn't give me $500,000. What am I paying her for? I kid. I kid because I'm insane.
My first day back on the job wasn't too bad. My boss is being really nice to me, so I expect to let go in the next couple of weeks. My work husband said he missed his "coffee buddy" and that I can never quit. Awww... It's nice to be missed.
Then I talked to Michael for a really long time and he was disappointed that I haven't been scheduled for a lobotomy and shock therapy. After all these years (eight, this month) I'm still kind of thrown that we can have hour long conversations on the phone given that we spent the majority of the weekend together. He wants out. I want out. Together we could use our powers for good and not evil. Okay, maybe a little evil.
Funny fact: I went to Nelson a few years ago and I was like, "Yep, I could totally live here". Turns out a lot of kids from Lasqueti ended up in Nelson and it's like the "Lasqueti on the mainland". Sweet.
Another fact: The Joy Luck Club book is excellent. The movie was stoopid.
Last fact: this posting is totally disjointed.