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ysobelleIt feels like a big, echoing room. I don't even have any rugs on the floor. Not even a half-dead houseplant.
So I spent some time today tackling the roots of what makes me so stubborn towards myself. I just can't tell myself no. I can't say, "NO! ...Good dog." Of course, I had to call Mom on the way back to my apartment and bring up the subject as pertains to the actual dog. "Saying no is only half of it," I said. "Once she stops the bad thing or doesn't do it, you tell her she's a good dog." It's funny-- I've always known this. My parents, of course, have not.
How's that for bizarre realisations about one's childhood?
So I spent some time today tackling the roots of what makes me so stubborn towards myself. I just can't tell myself no. I can't say, "NO! ...Good dog." Of course, I had to call Mom on the way back to my apartment and bring up the subject as pertains to the actual dog. "Saying no is only half of it," I said. "Once she stops the bad thing or doesn't do it, you tell her she's a good dog." It's funny-- I've always known this. My parents, of course, have not.
How's that for bizarre realisations about one's childhood?