on tuesday morning i had an appointment with my counsellor. my bus being late* i ran in there right on the hour…and then spent 10 minutes waiting for her. she came and got me, apologized for her lateness (a meeting, it's always a meeting, innit?) and took me into her room. i talked, she listened. i went into a rant about the state of our education and the attitudes of some of some of my classmates. being a professor herself, she concurred. i talked about some of my issues. she listened. and then, suddenly, with 20 minutes still left to go, she started to wrap up. about how i was evidently doing better. about how if i needed her i could come in again after the new year. about how she wished me the best of luck and whatnot, and with 15 minutes left to go, i was unceremoniously escorted off the premises.
on the one hand, yay me! i am better! on the other hand, damn it, i'm paying my tuition as much as the next depressed maniac and want my money's worth. on the other other hand (evidently i'm a veritable kali), most of my getting better had little to do with her, and a hell of a lot more to do with myself, this here forum, your support, and that miraculous and inexplicable tendency of my depression to bugger off on its own when it's good and ready. so really, with all these hands waving around, it's kinda hard to have a rational thought. in the end, i chose to take the positive approach - i was so fucking happy she needed to get me out of that office pronto, before i started to frighten the unwell: nobody wants to see a two-legged jerk prancing around in an amputee ward.
come to think of it, though, i should have asked for a certificate of sanity. it never hurts to have these things official.
*the only way calgary transit could suck any more is if they decorated their buses with dead puppies.