I selected the “not debate, exactly” choice. I can become stealthily argumentative. Usually, with reason. Sometimes I am like my selected mood: *****y. That means unreasonable arguments. I’m called out and I let the topics die.

This new shrink doesn’t know me like my old therapist. But I have a feeling, based on two sessions, that she’ll not humour my crap. Sometimes my old therapist would take the proffered bait. My shrink is young and lovely but tough; very smart and tough. My old therapist wasn’t as assertive as he should have been and he recognized that as a fault. He danced around my crap rather than questioning certain hostile behaviors.

My answer is heavy on my impressions of my new shrink and lighter on the realities of getting by with my old therapist.

Sigh. I want a good argument to flush the bile from my blood.

I need to be vampirised by one smart cookie. Talent is difficult to find.

Real talent is so hard to find.