live.love.laugh.

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In therapist’s office, a tiny bit weepy, I escape to the bathroom for a little minute before I leave. 

I just started working with her; not sure we will make progress together.

There’s a little wooden thing — a sign, let’s call it, as it appears to have no purpose — propped up on the counter around the sink.

Live, love, laugh, it says.

Now if it were that easy, I think, wouldn’t this piece of advice just about put all those in the therapy business out of business?

And why didn’t she just tell me this before we got started? Would have saved both of us a whole bunch of time.

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