Tortilla chips+cheddar+beer
Yesterday afternoon, I emailed BFE to ask her if she was up for a night of Tin Hat grilled cheese sandwiches and listening to me whine about some stuff. She wrote back, “Yes, 6:30?” Or something like that. See, I needed her help to decide whether or not I should seek the assistance of a life coach. I have a friend I love and respect but have only known a short time who has asked if I’d like to work with her in this way. My biggest hangup is that she’s expensive, but I’m also not really feeling the need for these services at the moment. But then I start to wonder if my hesitancy is really about hiding from what might be real issues, which only a life coach could help me see and deal with. The more I think about it, the more I go around and around about it in my head, and I really hate that part of my neurotic little brain. That’s why I called in BFE.
As we sat there and discussed the merits of seeking professional help, be it a counselor, psychiatrist, or life coach, I finished my tuna melt and most of my fries and then went to work on BFE’s nachos. She was saying really beautiful and profound things about working with someone who has an objective POV, which I agreed with. But my real question was about whether or not I’m in a place right now that requires I need an objective POV. I mean, I feel pretty good lately (late last week’s bout of PMS notwithstanding) and would honestly rather keep working through my own shit by myself. Plus, if I have people in my life like BFE and my mom who I can talk to anything about, why do I need to pay someone? Etc.
We talked for a while about this, then we moved on to other things: work, boys, the woman across the bar who is friends with an ex of mine who I really like but also kind of resent because she is also friends with some of his former friends who I don’t like. Blah blah blah.
As we were preparing to go, BFE asked if I felt better about my decision-making process about the life coach. I nodded and thanked her for her reassurance. What I didn’t tell her then was that my decision was carved in stone the minute I reached over, grabbed one of her nachos, took a bite, double dipped in her salsa, and she didn’t even flinch. For now, I can’t think of anything I need other than BFE and her constant willingness to share her grub with me.
October 4th, 2005 at 12:58 pm
Coach bob is always available and works for food. Although, I have to be up front with you. I have, lost a few patients, who said that I was the one who should be in therapy. Then again, there are always a few disgruntled ones.