Dear Diary: I was in Dr. Fishman’s waiting room today and I read a magazine article on new, alternative kinds of therapy. I think the magazine was called, “Therapy Illustrated,” or “Therapy Times,” or “Therapy Fancy,” which apparently is like “Cat Fancy” for crackpots. Whatever. One of the articles made me laugh out loud (which, FYI, disturbed the woman
Dear Diary, Saw Dr. Fishman yesterday. He told me he was just resting his eyes.
Dear Diary, Wasn’t feeling well when I went to bed last night. Headache, stomach ache, joint pain. Too late to call a doctor (even though I could have, that’s I favor I don’t want to call in unless it’s real emergency, like I set myself on fire, or Cooper sliced his arm off, or worst of all, my finger is
Dear Diary, I was looking in the mirror this morning and reminded myself that pretty is as pretty does. ☺
Dear Diary, I have a confession: Don Lemon is my Emotional Support NewsAnchor. If Don is calm, all is good in my world. I can face whatever slings and arrows come my way. He’s my human Xanax … especially when combined with a nice glass of Pinot. I love him. I’m obsessed with him. But honestly, I’m worried about him.