Have you ever fallen in love with a licensed social worker who you then tried to impress and eventually win over by helping her diagnose and then treat her most difficult clients?

If so, how did that work for you?

If not, what steps could you have taken that would lead to that outcome with the next licensed social worker who captures your infatuation?

Or what would have happened if this licensed social worker happened to be your therapist? Would that put a damper on your passions? Or would that only amplify them to such a degree that you had no choice, but to confess and open yourself up for censure and possible abandonment?

I am not sure why I am thinking about these questions since they clearly have nothing to do with anything in my life. I don’t even know any licensed social workers.

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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