My Worst Nightmare

I don't think I'm breaking new ground here by saying that guys don't really like talking about their feelings. 63% of all male/female arguments include a woman saying at some point, "Well, I wanna talk about it!" and a guy saying, "I don't want to!"

That's a fact. You can look it up.

Though I like to consider myself different than most guys, I am similar in that way. I like to deal with things that bother me by rolling it up into an imaginary ball and swallowing it (Memo to self: Get new Zantac prescription).

Now I'm dating a therapist, aka My Worst Nightmare (isn't that a cute pet name?)

The other day she asked how my writing's going. I answered I've been having a hard time for some reason.
"Would you like to explore that?"
I'm surprised she didn't ask me to lie on the sofa.

It gets worse......

We were lying on bed last week when Stewie jumped on and dropped the ball by her head. When she threw it, I said that she shouldn't have, because he was gonna keep bringing it to us now.
"I think you need to better manage your expectations."
"It's not me, it's Stewie!"
"Well, maybe you should better manage his expectations."
"I should manage my dog's expectations."
"That's right."
Silence.

Maybe talking stuff out and managing expectations will be a good thing. Perhaps Zantac will even become a thing of the past...After all, it can't be good for Stewie.

Note - When she says these things, it's with an ironic self-aware tone - in other words, she's kiddin'...sorta...i think...but maybe not.

Rock On,

Aitch