They force us to make Valentine’s Day cards for ourselves today. How therapeutic. This is what your tax dollars are funding – write your Congressman! (Please, I beg you, I’ve grown weary of being imprisoned in an adult daycare center).
My captors can’t see the irony of writing ourselves positive messages with sharpies and crayons. Suitcase Face (I honestly can’t even remember her real name, but I do know that she’s going to have a nasty case of Melanoma in a few years), is taking the whole thing very seriously. I probably would have drawn what I did without being provoked by her fake sunshiny demeanor.
I use colored sharpies on a construction paper medium. On the front, I write ‘When The Big Day Comes This Year‘ all bright with big goofy hearts. On the inside, I write “Remember It’s Not That Bad” with a guy blowing his head off with a shotgun. I even turned some of the blood splatters into a heart. It was downright festive. Plus, despite the suicide, it did meet assignment requirements by including a positive message on the inside.
Hallmark should hire me to make inspirational cards for people recently released from the psych ward. I’m pretty sure that’s a niche they haven’t hit yet. ‘Don’t do it again, you know you’ll just fail like you do at everything else‘. I imagine that one would be popular with parents for angst-ridden teenagers. I could be saving lives.
Alas, I’m imprisoned in yet another rehab, and when I show a couple of the guys around me they just look confused. Better get used to seeing a lot more of those looks over the next few months. Suitcase Face comes over and asks me if I’m done. I tell her yes but that she can’t see the inside because I don’t think she will get it. But I assure her that the message is very positive. She looks at me cross-eyed, sighs, and continues circling the room.
I’ve already started reading my new Irvine Welsh book and don’t want to be bothered when she inevitably gets upset, even though I’d initially planned to wipe the smile off her face. Suitcase Face apparently can’t handle the intrigue, and on her next pass, she asks again if she can see the inside. I’m distracted by my book “fine, here” and pass her the card without looking up.
A few seconds pass and she says, “this makes me sad”
“Well you told me to make a card for myself, not for you, and I love it”
I guess she hates when people confront her with sound reasoning because she says “this is not appropriate…I’m going to hold on to this” and walks away while telling me to make another card. Now I’m pissed.
I watch as Suitcase Face walks directly into Therapist’s office, the only person in the building with a degree on Saturday. Hell no, best to intercept before this becomes a whole big thing. I storm over to the office and Therapist is holding my card and laughing.
“This is pretty funny”
Hah you bitch! Suitcase Face tries to apologize to me and says “all I told him was that it made me sad“.
“Nope, verbatim you said this is inappropriate”
She looks like she wants to lie, either that or the all the UV rays have fried her brain because she pauses and says “ok, I did say that“. She must have figured there were too many witnesses. Therapist hands my card back over, and I decide to love her for the rest of my stay. Suitcase Face tries to apologize again, but I glare at her and walk back to my table.
I’m deep into my awesome new book again when Suitcase Face comes back around.
“Don’t be mad dude…”
Now I’m just annoyed. Can’t she see I’m reading? Let it go.
I look up at her and give her a heartbroken look, “I just thought I could trust you,” pretending to choke back tears.
I hope I make her next amends list, as she was a devout 12-stepper. I mean she did disturb my reading AND try to stifle my creativity.
I will not be censored.