Maybe I shoulda been a therapist...

Friday was a day that will live in ...well it wasn't that bad. Shade called me up to vent on Friday morning. She and her bestest and dearest friend - who shall be referred to as Scoop - were at each other's throats. And not in the oiled up and rolling around naked way that I've often imagined.

Scoop is a woman I like and admire, and not because she introduced me to her husband of three weeks as the man she would have married had he not stepped up. I like Scoop because she has the ability to let issues go...a talent few other women I know possess. I've known women to stop talking forever due to a disagreement over who met somebody first. Neither dated him, but they were adamant who met who first.

Back to the matter at hand, Shade and Scoop are like sisters. Scoop described their relationship as "marriage minus the romance and sex." They've stopped talking, then started again in continuing cycles and I don't think they even know why they still hang out. In reality they do love each other and have let a lot of petty foolishness get in the way of them being them. I still think they could work out with some baby oil and a bit of whipped cream.

And Shade reads this blog, so yes...this is what I think.

So Shade and I talk for the better part of an hour. I get to work, sit down, blow off a meeting. But by the end she's feeling better, and I may have accidentally agreed to mediate a session between them and given her some relationship homework. Accidentally.

The the woman in my office who won't get a nickname shows up at my desk. She won't get a nickname because ...well, because. She has her own issues and damn if we don't discuss them too. I could have sworn my degree was business. She explained she left a previous fiance because he was depressed. He'd been out of work for year, so I wasn't sure why she thought he should have been happy go lucky. She didn't seem to get that a guy not working (and with minimal prospects) would not have some reservations about living with their regular spending habits. That he might want to cut back. That he might get depressed. Didn't click with her for some reason.

Silly me.

But that was another hour of conversation. And now I think she's looking at her reaction to the relationship in a different way.

Is it just me? Maybe I look like a damn therapist. Ah, physician heal thyself!

But I am a good listener.

Oh well, Barkeep...something smooth and shiny.