The adventure of a nincompoop

Yes, you can call me crazy. Really. I really don’t mind. This I am.

After a few failed attempts to get myself professional therapy or as some would like to describe it “paying someone to listen”, I have started to see a new therapist. And as per my request, a female.

Any new dating prospects would be turned off right now. BUT AT LEAST I Acknowledge I HAVE ISSUES!

I thought Spring arrived, but someone up above likes to throw a curve ball and a day of nasty weather, just when I thought winter was done with. Just the other day it was 10C.

So I drove downtown to my appointment, and made it right on time. It’s in some 1960’s building, kinda like a house, I love it! So retro! They havn’t renovated, everything kept the same. When you arrive you have to go to one of the waiting rooms. And I’ve seen vintage porn before and I swear this waiting room was used for orgies back then. I can hear the tacky background porn music in my head.

So, my therapist walks in and we go to her little room and for the entire hour I sit there and talk about myself… blah, blah, blah and blah, blah, blah and more blah. It’s the one time you can get away with it. Don’t do it on your first time dates. TURN OFF!  You can’t be a mystery when it comes to this.

SO, I thought I was putting her to sleep. I swear I thought I saw her dosing off. I could be wrong.

So, for the entire hour she didn’t say much, I just had so much to say. Sadly, I am an excellent candidate for therapy because I am an open book, only in safe and secure settings. Confidentiality.

So here’s the problem. Every time I go to one of these “talk about myself” sessions, I feel crazy, more crazy then I was. I go and pay someone to listen and give some feedback, it’s like a brothel. And you do get feedback in a brothel. But I don’t walk out feeling dirty. Just CRAZY!

Then I get into my car and drive further downtown to another appointment and I park in an office building. I If this were some show it would be a scene from ‘Seinfeld’.

I parked my car in an underground parking lot and looked for an office building I need to go to, couldn’t find the building number in the crappy weather, I almost got runned over by someone plowing the snow on the sidewalk.

When it was time for me to leave, I couldn’t figure out how, where and what.

I am a very visual person, I remember things visually. And I recall walking upstairs from underground to the street after I parked my car. I parked on Level P1. So, I am anxiously trying to find where this stairwell was located, it was snowing like crazy and I was getting wet and annoyed. After walking around like a chicken with it’s head cut off, I found the stairwell and I walk down the stairs and there’s no handle to pull open, apparently it’s an EXIT only door.  But the door was cracked open a bit and I used my fingers to pull it open. I walk in and there are like 10 other doors. And I am like “UR KIDDING ME, I AM GONNA FREAK!”

I opened another door inside and some plastic wrapper fell to the floor, someone put something in between the door so they can have access, and what do I do? I accidentally locked the door. So I turn around and noticed another door was opened to a room and I can hear someone in this odd room and I said “Hello, anyone here?” And some tall dark skinned guy walks to the door and I asked if he knew where’s the parking lot, he said he didn’t know and he walks with me in the hallway, he then said “Oh thanx, now you locked me in here”.  I said “Opps”.

I find my way outside and walk around the building and I see the ramp I drove down to the parking lot. So I said “Oh great, I found it!” I don’t see any entrance for me to walk into, so I walk down the ramp and almost fell on my ass because it was slippery. And the garage doors were closed, they automatically open when you drive down.  So I walk back up the ramp, venting.

I noticed someone was smoking outside and I asked him how to get to the parking lot, he said to go through the doors and take the elevator down, I said to myself finally. I get into the parking lot, and was thinking okay this is P1, now where is my car??  I noticed a button for assistance, so I push it, suddenly lights started to flash, I then realized it said ‘EMERGENCY ASSISTANCE’. Some guy comes on the speaker and I said “Hi, I can’t locate my car”. He said which level did you park it at? I said P1. He asked if I was sure it was not at 181 Adelaide St. I said “Oh, right, now I remember.” He told me to go back in and through the doors etc”  I couldn’t get back into the building.

So I had go through the stairwell again, made it upstairs to the office building, asked the security officer how the HELL DO I GET TO THE 181 ADELAIDE PARKING LOT, I”VE BEEN TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT FOR 30 MINUTES!.  So he said walk to the glass doors, turn left, then right and then left right.  I said WHY ME WHY ME????

So I tired to remember, left, right, right left, left right right left right… I didn’t. I asked again.

And it was right in front of me.

I then saw the machine to pay for my parking, paid my ticket, GOT INTO MY CAR and FINALLY LEFT.

It doesn’t end here. Ohhhhh no. Misery loves company.

I exit out of the garage, realized what street I was on, turned left because I had no other choice it was a one way street, then I turned right. I drive a bit and realized I was driving SOUTH and I need to be going north on Bay St.

 

TODAY I was just stupid. Just today.

The weather was driving me insane. I was driving myself insane.

Then I noticed my dad called me a few times today but I was too busy to pick up. I called him and he wanted my mom’s number. She’s in Israel visiting for a week. When I got home I gave him the number. He calls back and said it doesn’t go through. I gave him the number again, I said 011 972 3……. he said ohhhh 3, I have 2. He calls again and verifies the number again. He said he still can’t get through, so I tried calling it and had no problem. He said he’ll try again. He calls again but didn’t pick up, I was dressing up my dogs for their walk. It was already 5:30pm, 30 minutes later than usual for their walk.

I got home and did a 3 way call because my father couldn’t make a phone call, my poor mother was already sleeping as it was 12:30AM Israel time. He wanted to make sure she was alright cause it was on the news that there was some bomb in Jerusalem, but she’s in Tel-Aviv.

Dad couldn’t make a phone call,  I COULDN’T FIND MY CAR!

It runs in the family, apparently.

Yea, right!

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