I end up confessing all of my sins to Martha. This is easiest, as she has nothing to do with my real life, and she never judges me. And she is, of course, an eager listener, because who doesn't want to hear another person's deepest secrets?

She has become my therapist. I can tell her anything. I think when I am done here, I will keep coming back to tell her and Misha the secrets. Coming in to say, I like your new haircut. Coming in to say, here is a candy bar, and I really miss you. Coming to say, I married Mike in Vegas, and I'm having second thoughts about him now.


Sometimes in the depths of my empathy towards my poor miserable clients, I still want to lean back and say, "Even though your life is falling apart, you could still probably brush your teeth before leaving the house."


And everyday I get to about lunch time, and wonder why I thought it was a good idea to try to tease my hair into more volume. I end up with bumpy nests in the back of my head, like a drunk 9th grader.