i’ve been living in an isolation booth these past few weeks. and you know what? i kind of don’t find it to be very pleasant. Even though I can’t seem to separate myself from solitude, you know if I had a choice, there would be a lot of separation.

in fact, if i could write a book right now, it would probably be titled Against Solitude. My dream is to see everybody on the train sitting with a copy of the printed book, or standing while reading the Kindle version. I would walk up to at least one of the commuters and say, “hey, guess who i am?” and they would look at the author’s photo on the book jacket, and then they would look back at me, and maybe they would make the connection, or maybe they wouldn’t.

But that would be a great distraction for me from solitude. Which is all the motivation i would need to write this book.

I’ve begun my carefully contrived break-up with my therapist. she’s just gotten way out of control. you know, these psycho-analytic types. this week i arrived a few minutes late due to traffic, and she began our session by saying, “i’m noticing there is a pattern here. this isn’t the first time you’ve been late because of traffic. and i’m wondering if it has something to do with the work we’re doing here.” And I have nothing to say in response. And she continues, “i’m just curious. have you often been stuck in traffic with your previous therapists?” And I said, “nope, just you.”

but the final straw happened the other day when I had to cancel an appointment, and I cancelled it 21 hours before the scheduled appointment, violating the 24-hour cancellation rule, which i totally understand. except that she had to pathologize it. “i’m just curious if this is something you did with your previous therapists. And, if that’s the case, what are you looking for in a therapist?” I said, “you raise an excellent point.”

But then it took a bizarre twist. She was going to charge me the full fee she would charge to my health insurance as a penalty for my late cancellation, but if I scheduled a “make-up” session on Saturday, she would charge me $60 less. And since I just looked at my checking account balance and saw that I am down to $0, i realize i just can’t afford to skip this appointment. i can’t afford to not see her. She has this maniacal power over me. And I must un-ensnare myself. Probably when she goes on vacation next week. And that will be the end of that. And I think, the end of therapy. At last.