A Dancing Therapist

I dance in my office sometimes, with the window shades drawn, the door closed, and the music down low. I dance to electronic music with absurd lyrics, pop beats and ridiculous riffs. I dance in ways I wouldn't show to my friends or family, awfully silly and over-the-top, arms flailing and legs in the air. … Continue reading A Dancing Therapist

I(‘m) quit(ting).

I'm quitting my job as a family therapist. Quitting, despite my fiancé still having no job to speak of, after being furloughed since March (the job isn't coming back, is it?). Quitting, despite the comfortable salary, the health benefits, the paid mileage. Quitting, despite this gnawing fear that my family will end up with no … Continue reading I(‘m) quit(ting).