I’ve been doing some writing for fun….I have nothing to do with it so I thought I might post bits here…if you think this is totally lame because it’s not my life and thus not really on point with this site then skip these posts you won’t hurt my feelings

“Logan, please sit down and we’ll get started.  Know that this is a safe place.” taking a long pause to take a full inhale and then exhale “Now tell me, how are you doing today?”  His therapist started every encounter with this same introduction; he wondered if she had said it with the same voice inflection and pauses since her first patient a decade ago.  Logan had been seeing Margaret Kneu for two years, a bad break up had lead him to her worn leather backed chairs and every week she ended there session with the standard “We’ll pick this up next week Logan.  Do have a pleasing week” and although at times he wondered why, he knew that he would return again next week.

Margaret was consistent, steady, she always steered a conversation without providing outright direction and Logan appreciated this.  It was a stark contrast from the other people in his life.  For the last six years Logan has served the greater Connecticut area as the local weather man.  Providing the cheery brainless banter required and zero ability to actually predict the weather; which was just as well because the script was handed directly to him with explicit directions on what to focus on.  His time was served and he was due for a network position sitting behind the big desk and yet he wasn’t being called upon.

The calls he was getting are far less pleasing.  When you have a mother and three sisters phone calls are plentiful and being the perpetual bachelor Logan would receive at least one call a week from each of these women in his life inquiring about a new woman…there was never a new woman though.  Not since Beatrice.  ”You should go out with Courtney.” “You should try speed dating.” “Next Thursday Tiffany is coming in to town you should try to stop by and see her.” It was a constant flood of direction – go here, see her, get out there.  As a joke one day a little over a year ago he stopped calling them by their names and just started calling them The Pushers.  It stuck.

As winter began Logan was sure that he would be in sunnier states before the first snow flake hit the ground, he had believed that Texas or maybe Louisiana would be calling.  But they hadn’t.  And here he was nearing the beginning of March and he was handed the script: More Snow Ahead for the Weekend!<emphasis on the snow by placing your hand on the ground and bringing it up to mid-thigh>.

Logan groaned.

How many hate e-mails would he receive today?  How many school cancellation requests would be flooding in his inbox? He would be the most hated person in CT before the end of the weekend.  Predicting massive snow falls, causing milk and bread runs, getting children’s hopes up for prime sledding and then producing just two inches of snow does not make anyone your friend.

This could be the beginning of the breakdown…