“I’m concerned”, I said to my psychiatrist as I looked down at my thumbs.
God, they’re some big ass fucking thumbs.
I don’t have a therapist.
However, I did at one point.
If I still had a therapist this would be the first thing I’d say to her as I sit down for my session.
It does concern me that I no longer have the distinct urge to rip my face off and sling it against a window when I hear Michael McDonald. Even worse, sometimes you’ll find me standing on a table, very enthusiastically shouting, “No, seriously guys, even the black folks think Darryl Hall is awesome.”
I want to know what this all means. Does it signify that I’m getting old? Does the moment you go from thinking, “Quick! “Saturday in the Park” is making my ears bleed” to “Hey, don’t change the station, I kind of dig Chicago” signify the immediate transition from young person into adult? Will Peter Cetera and Bruce Hornsby(more…)
