The Kids at therapy are so fucking adorable. I just want to give them cookies and scruff up their hair. (I called them The Kids because they are both 19 and have the same first name i.e. ‘Kid’. It's kind of like they are Thing 1 and 2. OMG, I could call them Thing 1 and Thing 2!!)
Thing 1 is really into fantasy novels and has started reccing books to me. He is a super adorkable too, doesn't care if he acts silly or whatever. He also plays the drums, which I double-checked how old he is before I made lewd comments about drummers to him, which didn’t seem to phase him at all. He brought in his band's one song for me to listen too. Sadly, we couldn't get the earphones to work on his IPod, but afterwards I wouldn't give it back until I had checked out his taste in music. I stopped at the Bs - Beastie Boys, Black Sabbath & Blue Oyster Cult. I approve!
Thing 2 worked there last summer, was away at college, and is back. He is a little quieter than Thing 1, but also very adorable. We got to talking about The Walking Dead and he got very enthused. Apparently he is a fan. We had this big talk about how we both like shows that are essentially about the characters, regardless of if they are dropped in a zombie apocalypse, it needs to be about the characters. He was apparently impressed, because he spent the rest of my appointment following me around, asking my advice on what shows he should try this summer. I recced Justified and Defiance. Then Thing 1 came over and wanted to know more about Defiance and we got in this big discussion about that. Then The Things got called over to a patient and I started to leave and Thing 2 came running out to the lobby just to tell me goodbye. He's like a puppy - it's totally fucking cute.
Also, so, I like to put my headphones on and sing-along during my heat sessions. I have no fucks to give about the fact that people can hear me. Because, seriously, after this many years doing medical shit, I do whatever I can to make it more tolerable for me and could give a shit about so-called dignity and shame. I mean, I like all the people at therapy and they are receptive to my opinions and stuff, but it is still a medical clinic and I still have to go twice a week every week for the rest of my life. Which blows. So, yeah, I sing along.
Oddly, I have gotten several compliments from therapy-peeps on my singing. Which, I'm fairly decent at harmonizing but how can you tell if I have my headphones on and you are only hearing my side of the song? Idk, but I'm not really good, I wouldn't say. But one day, an aide came to take my heat and when I opened my eyes, she was just standing there and she said, "I didn't want to stop you in the middle of a song. You sounded so good." (I was singing 'Dynamite' by Steve Carlson, which is one of my better songs). Then another day as I was singing, one of the aides stopped to give me a thumbs-up sign. And Therapy Aide said to Thing 1, who was talking about putting a band together, "Well, you should get Dodger as your lead singer. We already know she can sing." The other day Thing 2 told me, "I know you have good tastes in music. I can tell by the stuff you sing along too," and I said, "Yeah, thanks for reminding me of that," and he said, "No, I like it when you sing for us," and then he flushed pink for some reason and said, "You sound nice."
I can never tell if they are being sincere or poking fun - this is what years in my family has done, I assume every comment is sarcastic! But I'm still going to sing-along regardless, because 'whatever, I do what I want!'