Had to
go see the shrink, Brian Teaser, again. This overwhelming sense of
bewilderment took me prisoner.
“What
do you want THIS time?!” he demanded in his usual welcoming manner?
That doesn't really bother me—I'm just comforted that he is awake.
I still watch him, though. Our session tapes are rife with words
I've shouted in mid-sentence to startle him from one of his naps.
“Doc,
you remember how you told me I needed to lose myself in something I
was passionate about?”
“Yeeess,”
he tendered, looking guarded.
“And,
remember my earth-friendly campaign?”
“Oh,
your 'Save The Butter Tubs' thing? Sure, I remember.”
“Well,
it's going badly.”
“You
do look a little...jaundiced. Have you been eating too much butter?
I can prescribe something...”
“No
no Doc, that's not it. Although I did once try to give a tub of
butter mouth-to-whatever...I stuck my face in it. Just that
once...because it stopped moving.”
“Wait,
the butter was moving?”
“Well
no, I figured out I was just dizzy at the time. Anyway that's not
WHY I'M HERE!” He sat up with a start. “I just don't get why
people don't care about butter tubs.” He turned away for a moment
and covered his face with his hands to think. “I can see it's time
to go,” I continued, “but Doc, I know lots of people who
wouldn't give a starving butter tub so much as a day old lump of
haggus!
“Me
too,' he said, tearing up. He was crying softly as I closed the
door.
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