I ran 4 miles last night, while waiting for my appointment. It was kind of cool. I ran over to 1st Avenue, to the United Nations. It was quiet and I was quite taken by the idea that ambassadors from around the world meet there to discuss international issues. I wonder if they play poker whenever someone uninteresting has the floor. I wonder if they ask Shirley Temple to sing "Good Ship Lollipop." Hmm. Anyway. However, I was a little conflicted, because I had recently watched Hotel Rwanda and was not impressed with the UN's response to that situation. During my run, I kept turning my head to read the names of the different buildings I passed as I headed south on 1st Avenue. It was a part of town I hadn't really ever seen before. It involved a little bit of multitasking, as for some reason I decided to head out during rush hour, so I dodged and weaved through crowds of walkers-home while feeling very much like the bug-eyed tourists that annoy me to no end. I jogged in place at stop lights and bolted ahead when they turned green to avoid walking as much as possible. I turned west at 20th Street, turned north at 6th Avenue then ended the course at my work building.
Oh, back to the consultation. The therapist listened well, seemed to ask all the right questions, expressed excitement at being able to work with me; told me I was wonderful for fasting about whether to work with this particular person. So, my next appointment is Tuesday. Valentines Day.
Oh, back to running. When I flex my legs in front of the mirror, I can see a little more differentiation in my quads and calves. I need to get a jumprope. Whenever I flex my abs in front of the mirror, I see little dents where the muscles separate. This really sounds like I do a lot of flexing in front of the mirror, but, really, I don't. Sometimes when I do bicep curls in front of the mirror, it looks like that vein pops out, but it really doesn't. Running is really starting to transform my body. I really only started doing this to improve my mood. I had no idea I would become such a hottie. (That makes me laugh, out loud, because I could not care less about the hotness factor.) When I do eyebrow raises in front of the mirror, my left one goes a little higher than the right one. Sometimes I try to wiggle my ears in front the mirror. I can't do that. Sometimes when I think a funny or happy thought and I smile and happen to be in front of a mirror, my eyes seem to light up with recognition and I say to myself, "Oh, there you are!" Then, sometimes, I feel my smile push my ears up slightly. That's neat.
Hee, back to therapy. This person's office does not have much to distract me. At my previous therapist's office were cases of books and pillows with fringe I could fidget with on the couch. I must be a little weird to watch while in session. It's hard to sit still. It's hard to maintain eye contact. I recline. I end up with one arm bent over my head. I do the Yellow Pages walk with my fingers. I make weird thinking faces. But I talk. I talk as much as I can. I don't hold back. If I'm feeling a thing, or confused about a thing, or don't know what a thing means, I'll say so. I've become a lot better at doing that, at least in therapy, and it's helped me to become a better understander. Outside of the office and the boundaries and the couch, I have some difficulty. Anyway, I know I have a long way to go, and I'm looking forward to the progress I'll make under this therapist's wing.