8 Reasons We Overbook

I don't mean double book. Just packing too much in one day.

The day after promising to post daily for a week or more, my schedule is ridiculous and I think, How will I fit this in?

How does this happen? Why?

You take on new patients, that's how. And if it is a marital therapy, you probably want to see them twice that first week, not once. Maybe three times. That's how some of us do it. How one of us does it.

But it isn't only therapists who can't resist adding more to an already full workload.

Let's take a look at the reasons we over-schedule, take on more than we probably should.
Feel free to add thoughts. This is a short-list.

Why We Overdo It 

1. We can't say No.

So many reasons we can't say no.

fear of rejection,
fear someone will be angry with us,
fear we won't be included next time, will be left out,
wanting to be the go-to person
for starts.
Some see it as a weakness, call it co-dependent, others admire such strong emotional attachment.
Where would we be without people who can't say no?

2. There's an ethnic, and quintessential American world view, that it is good to get things done, to accomplish a lot.  The idle mind is the devil's playground, you know.

The thinking is that this is what being alive is all about, doing things, helping other people, providing for ourselves and our families, even having fun, or not having fun, but contributing to a community.

We burn out sometimes, we get grumpy, but it is back to it the next day, dysfunctional though it might be when the stress is too much and the spouse or kids get the brunt of it. That's a sign, you know, that the world view needs to change.

3. We LIKE being busy

There's a certain energy level that some people just have, and it has to go somewhere. We can work on subduing that, or we can go jogging, fly a kite, compulsively do dishes or clean the baseboards, whatever those are.

4. We need the money.

There's not much money in doing nothing, so most of us try to work, and get the most for the effort. Adding an extra shift, an extra patient, a second, third, or fourth part-time job, makes financial sense most of the time, pays down the credit card. It isn't greed. It is necessity.

But it can be greed. Either way, workaholics seem to think they need it.

5. We can avoid intimacy 

Too busy, too tired, both valid, great excuses. (Workaholics are often accused of this, but it isn't just people who work all of the time that we're talking about, but those of us who always have something to do, anything but take the proverbial "nap."

That's when it's about avoiding intimacy.

Part of being busy, if busy is to be functional, is fitting in time to have our needs for intimacy met, and the needs of our partners, regardless of our schedules.

There's are other posts on this blog about intimacy avoidance, check them out.  But it could be as simple as an aquarium emergency. You can't let your fish die, you know.

6. We're just getting started in this world, learning how to live

Doing is becoming, growing, adding to who we are. I'm a person who . . .
We're who we were yesterday, and today we're that person (unless we don't want to be) who identifies with a new skill, a new activity. This builds identity.

As young people we're not all encouraged to garden, or even pull weeds in the yard, for example, or to learn instruments, or learn any other hobby, thing that calls to us, makes us want to get off our duffs and do.  But then, as adults some of us get a defining moment, and suddenly, the thought of playing piano, or taking singing lessons, even going back to school or working part-time is inspiring, irresistible.

Because at any age, if we look at it right, we're just getting started.

7. There's less focus in aging

As we age, some of us find our minds wandering, wanting to do more, not less. Maybe it is because we realize we don't have that much time left, but the brain is certainly on the move. The body wants to slow down, but the mind says No. (We're ruling out a manic episode, but it feels that way.)

Work that once satisfied isn't enough, it is boring but it pays the bills, so presented with an option, for example, of saying yes to becoming, say, a member of the board, or taking on a speaking engagement, or even coaching T-ball, we say YES.
Even if, at the end of the day, we would rather eat and watch TV.

8. Multi-tasking can become addictive, especially for feel-good tasks

Some of us are gifted with the ability to multi-task, need to multitask, will plan another task even as we're busy doing something else. Some of us can do two to three things at once.

We can be at a Little League game and listen to a MLB (Major League Baseball) on our phones, and we see nothing weird about this at all. Or go to a meeting and surreptitiously check the scores. It is the pleasure principal. We do what feels good.

Take that thought, or any of the others above, add your own, and before long, you're over-booked.

Not that you don't like it that way.

So yeah, adding too many patients to the day could be due to anything. But some of us, if we commit to something, will probably get it done, manage to get everything done,  too, if not perfectly.

It is why they say:

If you want something done, give it to a busy person.

And the crazy thing is, these people don't even pat themselves on the back.

Now. Why is it that some people don't overdo it, or don't even try to accomplish very much?

It isn't, despite what your momma and papa told you, about being lazy.

therapydoc

Independent to a Fault

I wrote this on Sunday, July 2, 2006. But I don't think I ever posted it, and on the reread think that it is probably a good pre-Mother's Day post. None of the concepts are new, old time readers have heard them all before. But maybe not the therapeutic suggestion at the end. I'm pretty sure that's new.

A person grows up in a home with sick parents, people who couldn’t attend to his emotional or physical needs. Or a family in which a sibling is sick and needs constant attention. The “healthy” child takes care of himself, makes his own lunch, does laundry—helps out his family the best he knows how. It can go the other way, of course, he might act out to get attention, cut school to go out for donuts.

But if he doesn’t, if he merely tries to make do, keeps hope alive, he might find that he tends not to ask for help. He is used to taking care of himself. Asking for help feels presumptuous, an imposition. He is capable, others are not. Asking for help has been beaten out of him. The answer, clearly, is no. And even if it were yes, it feels selfish to ask.

An independent-to-a-fault child might have watched as one of his two parents nurtured that less-than-healthy child or spouse. Someone else is nurtured, not him. Nurturing is modeled, so reluctance to nurture feels wrong. This wonderful person feels guilty saying to anyone, “No, I don’t really have time to . . . “ Some would surely label him co-dependent, an interesting label for someone who has worked to be independent all his life.

In other families, children are free of responsibility, their parents tend to their needs, quiz them on spelling tests. Children ask parents for help and hear, “Be right there!” and the parent materializes. A certain envy ensues, but acceptance, too. This will never be my life.

For our hero, asking for help is adding to the burden of an already over-taxed family system. He learns the opposite lesson, Take care of yourself; don’t ask for help; you can do this. A cognitive-behavioral therapist, seeking a core belief, might find that deep down this now adult child feels unlovable, believes the only reason people love him is that he is useful, a big help to have around.

His world view, a family world view, is that it is best to be a helper in life. Everyone likes someone who helps out, who seeks nothing in return. The cooperative, socially functional world view, a social contract that implies trust, I’ll scratch your back, you scratch mine, is anathema. He doesn’t really feel worth it, asking for a back scratch, stealing another person’s time. There are others more worthy, needier than he.

Independent to a fault, someone will love him, who wouldn't? But he will be difficult to love. He doesn’t understand that the gift is in the giving, and others need to give just as much as he. He won’t accept help, isn’t fond of gifts. Partners, children, find this annoying in a spouse, a parent. They want to give, too, and he denies them the pleasure. It feels good, making other people happy.

Treatment is behavioral, naturally. We suggest tennis*.

therapydoc

*If you don't play tennis, here's how the game goes. Usually, if you play on public tennis courts, there are several courts side by side. If you aren't the best tennis player, or even if you are, you will naturally hit the ball in a such a way that it lands on another court. You have to wait until the players on that court err in play and stop play for a moment. Then you ask, "A little help please?" This is universal tennis language and people who play tennis don't resent chasing down your ball and throwing it back to you. Or they shouldn't.

Mother's Day

My friends and I are about to start watching a movie (Country Strong, Gwyneth is fantastic, and the faces of these actors, so gorgeous, and I am such a sucker for a good country song) when the phone interrupts.

So I pick up.  Everyone else seems to be on the phone, too. There should be a rule, but okay.

It's my daughter-in-law asking me to come for a Mother's Day brunch.  This takes me by surprise, because usually it's my generation making the brunches, the dinners for Hallmark holidays.  And Mother's Day is a bear because so many people, believe it or not, want to see their therapist on Mother's Day.  My people.

I'll do Father's Day, is my reaction, and will knock off by 10:30 on Sunday morning to make it to the lox and bagels, hopefully there will be quiche.  What can I bring, has to be a part of that conversation, but I forget, in a hurry to watch the movie.

Later on I begin to think about the gifts, because there have to be gifts, and it occurs to me that the better you know someone, the easier this is. And if you don't know someone very well, it's almost impossible to get the right gift.  But your mother-- you know her.  How hard can this be?

This is why it's so funny that we buy for our mothers-in-law, too, because really, their first degrees should be doing that, they know them better.  But okay.  Over the years, we know them, too.

Sometimes there's a theme of the week in therapy, to change the subject for a minute.  Like last week the song, I Will Always Love You, popped up twice.  The Whitney Houston song!  Different reasons, different people, same concept.  People become separate, move in different directions, but that attachment isn't going anywhere, or so says the song.  The song is wrong, though.  If you wait long enough, actually, it does dissipate, even for mothers. That can be good or bad, depending.

The theme this week, not by coincidence, seems to be about giving, and how that's so easy for some people, and yet these same people can't take a gift graciously. This is communicated with clarity:

Don't spend money!
Don't waste your money!
Please, I don't need anything!
Please, I'll just return it!
I won't like it. Whatever it is, I won't like it.  Not my taste.

I had to beat more than one person up over this, not wanting to take gifts, not giving someone else the opportunity even to do anything for them.  Why is this so bad?  Independence is a good thing!

Because the joy in life, for many people, and you don't know who these people are, is in the verbs, the action.  Giving is an emotional exercise for them.   They need to give.  And they're not co-dependent, they're just nice.   People who don't let them do this are denying the use of that muscle, the one that feels really good when it gets a giving-doing work out. 

It's a feel-good workout for everyone, imho.  For a few moments, under the influence of giving, a person feels selfless.  At least in those moments we're not engaged in our everyday selfish behavior.  And we know, come on, how far that can go.

Don't forget, whether giving or receiving, that the gift itself is symbolic, it will be remembered.  If you're the one giving, this is you, this gift.  Be it a vacuum cleaner or a Swarovski figurine, this thing has your name all over it.  He gave it to me.  She gave it to me. His taste.  Her taste.  The gift has fingerprints-- touch, attention --all wrapped up in a little box.

Little gifts, little boxes are a good idea, if you're unsure about what to give.  (My kids give me winder toys-- why didn't I ever mention Swarovsky!-- just kidding, kids, don't you dare spend the money)  Little is good in case the gift misses the mark.  Some of us won't throw a single gift away, even if they have long outlived their usefulness or we never like them.  How hard that is, throwing gifts away, even cards.  Those boxes in the basement!  We pray for a flood.  I've started sticking a post-it in my cards to other people, writing on it:

I love you, please reuse this card.

So it's a crazy day, full of emotion for a lot of people, and probably if you get invited to brunch, you should totally go.  Check out the whole gestalt of the gift giving thing.

And when it comes to a gift for mom, if you still have one, I know it can be hard sometimes.  Not everyone can, not everyone even wants to give a gift, or even a card, certainly not a call. That's how it can be when people don't treat us right.  We avoid them.  It's not being selfish, either, believe it or not, rather it is what it is.  Staying disengaged can preserve sanity for certain sensitive souls.  And somebody has to stay sane.

Those of us lucky enough to know that we have to get something for Mom, whether we want to or not, had better get going on it.  Brunch is coming right up, and it's going to be good.

Just one last thing.  Moms, when you open them up, those cards, those presents--  smile and say thank you.

therapydoc

Choosing a Therapy Doc, or is that Dodo Bird?

A mom requested this one awhile ago.

How should a person go about finding a good mental health professional?

I think I've sent you all subliminal messages about what to look for when looking for help, but perhaps it is time to get a little more specific.

It's very hard. Just admitting that you want help can feel so uncomfortable, so dependent.

But if you look at it like, Nobody gets into Pre-K without immunization for measles, mumps, and rhubella, yet here I am, working at being a grown-up, and I've never had my emotional temperature taken, not by someone who can really read it. So perhaps it's time.

Oh, man, you think, and this is going to cost me.

That can be bad. But if you have no insurance or no money, that can be good. You're likely to seek services at a community mental health center or a social service agency, and it won't cost much at all.

What will you find? Probably caring, well-intentioned, well-trained professionals, young and old, who have the means to consult with other caring, well-intentioned, well-trained, experienced mental health professionals. These are people who like people, usually. Consultants and supervisors swarm agencies and mental health centers. And the training for interns in MSW, PhD, and PsyD programs is better than ever before.

So using community resources is certainly a good idea for starts. Your family doctor is another good option.

And if you have insurance, most insurance companies have some mental health benefits package, and provide affiliated provider lists that point you to licensed social workers, psychologists, and psychiatrists. Good people.

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe. Catch a tiger by the toe.

How do you pick from that list? It's not easy. You can try finding someone with a nice name and then google to see if the provider has a web site. But the likelihood is that your average Joe or Sally Mental Health Provider doesn't have a website.

Which is ridiculous, of course. Those of you who are going to become therapy docs should, absolutely should, put up a website that describes the type of therapy you do, the types of people you see, your specialties, preferences, fee schedule, etc. You'll probably not want to explain who you are and what you do on the telephone.

But if you have a website, you avoid the following telephone conversation:

New patient (catches me between patients): Uh, Dr. Therapydoc, My name is _____and I got your name from _______ and I was wondering if we could talk awhile about your practice and how you work, and the kinds of problems you treat, and how you treat them, perhaps where you went to school, who mentored you, do you have any certification in . . .

I'm listening as the list goes on, and inside I'm thinking:

This can't be good! I'm TERRIBLE at these interviews! I always fail! There's no summing up these things just to dismiss a patient's anxiety. And no time. There's the scheduling, the billing, the calls to the pri-cares, psychiatrists, teachers, and principals. There are the ex-spouses, divorce lawyers, childrens advocates, all needing a consult, too. And a therapist has her own appointments, her own children, in-laws, parents, friends, and hair-dresser to consider. Where's the time?

Oy, such an attitude. It's not good. There's no heart in it, and I've never actually said these things to anyone but FD, only recited that list to him while describing previously failed interviews, the ones in which I fumbled trying to answer the questions. The ones in which the patient-in-need-of-doctor at the end of the line has said, after listening to me patiently explain what it is that I do,

"Well, thanks very much, but I'll keep looking."

Of course.

But people do need to know what we do. Not every therapist does the same thing. We're a very mixed bunch. How are you supposed to pick one? How do you know if a doc is right or wrong for you if you can't even get an interview on the phone?

It might not matter, truthfully. The outcome research on therapy docs is that a dodo bird is a dodo bird is a dodo bird (except the CBT dodo birds, who are special). If patients like their therapist, if they get a rapport going, if there's a good feeling, good karma, call it what you will. If you get along just fine that first visit, it's likely to become a therapeutic relationship.

We're all Dodo birds.

But you can't tell people that on the telephone.

Me (armed with cybertechnology): No, I don't do interviews anymore on the phone. I suggest you take a look at my website, though. Got a pencil? Okay? Great, write this down. Hope to hear from you. Give me a call back if you still want to see me after reading through the material on the web. Terrific.

But let's say the therapists on your list aren't equipped with that technology, haven't got a kid who is a graphic designer. You can still get at least some information, usually, from the busiest therapy docs if you ask a specific question or two.

Like you can ask, By any chance, do you happen to do a particular therapy, uh, ________therapy?

Some therapies are better than others for certain problems and you can go into treatment knowing something about them.

For example, if you want to see your life and your problems through the lens of learning theory and past relationships, including family, lovers, and friends, and you have the time to sit on the couch awhile, a psychosocial approach might feel good. Almost all social workers learn that style of therapy in foundation courses and it can be extremely powerful.

But if you know that there are serious repairs that need to happen in relationships right now, or you think that someone in the family is truly suffering because of the behavior of someone else in the family, you might ask a therapist if he or she has some post-graduate training in relationship, family, or marital therapy.

If you have an addiction, you might ask if the doc has certification in addictions therapies. Although it's not always necessary, it really helps.

If you like problem solving, and don't feel your problem really warrants an overview of your entire life story down to your toilet training (psychoanalytic therapy) you might ask if the therapist comes from a problem-solving, task-centered, or behavioral background.

Or perhaps you're struggling with depression and/or anxiety and your thoughts tend to go negative and irrational. You should surely ask about cognitive-behavioral expertise.

If you just saw someone murder someone, you might ask for experience in crisis counseling or exposure therapies for post-traumatic stress.

I particularly like acceptance-commitment therapy, an outgrowth of cognitive behavioral therapy. In ACT you accept where you're at and commit to changing, growing, and trying to become a different, more complicated, more lovable human being.

But ACT is so different from bemoaning that past child abuse and blaming the stars, although you can do that, too, in ACT.

And you know I think in terms of family systems.

But sometimes it's good to have a therapist who knows how to play well with kids. Children won't necessarily talk to you unless you know how to play. A deck of cards, a box of dominoes, a few dolls. A therapist who treats kids and doesn't do just a little play therapy might not cut it for your particular little angel. On the other hand, a child's therapist who ONLY does play therapy is potentially stealing your money.

If you have terrible post-traumatic stress from a violent or cataclismic episode or three, then you might benefit from an exposure therapy.

Hypnosis sometimes works for eating and smoking. Not always.

Feminist and empowerment therapies are really good for issues that have roots in oppression or social inequality.

So you see, it's handy to have an eclectic therapist. Use whatever model works with a particular patient, I say.

Bottom line? If you don't feel a connection with your therapist after the second visit, if you don't feel you can relate, then you probably should discuss it to see why you may not make a good team. There isn't a therapist on earth who relates to everyone, and that's as it should be.

Now. Armed with that very limited treatment overview, that first phone call should go as follow:

Patient: Hi, I got your name from ________ and wondered if you were taking new patients.

Therapist: Sure, but first, very briefly, tell me what you're looking for.

Then the patient provides a brief summary of the problem, i.e., I want to save my marriage, or I lost my mother, or My wife if cheating on me, or My kid is thirty and won't leave home, that sort of thing. Whatever it is. Brief.

The therapist then hopefully responds with an empathetic remark, like, Oh, dear. That must not feel so good. Let me see what I have for you, see if our schedules match up, if I can get you in. When did you want to come in? What day/time is best for you?

IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE ANY MORE COMPLICATED THAN THAT.

Then, at the set appointment time, the patient discusses the problem and the goals and objectives of the therapy, assuming that these are actually important to him. Sometimes they're not. Sometimes people really do just want to talk, and talk, for weeks and months, indefinitely, and that's fine, too.

But if a patient has something in mind, certain goals to accomplish, the therapist should somehow communicate that these can be accomplish. The therapist should have a clue as to how. Because face it, the patient doesn't.

It's like a first and second date. You really don't have to see a person a second or third time if you know, deep down, that it's not a good fit. Therapy is a good place to work on NOT being co-dependent. It's a good place to put yourself and your family first.

Okay. Go get 'em.

Copyright 2008, therapydoc

The Perfect Friend

There are so many deep things we can talk about on this blog.

So did anyone see Desperate Housewives Sunday night?

As far as I know, only Empath Daught and I own up to watching Desperate religiously. We hadn't discussed it at all this season, but a couple of weeks ago, right after the tornado episode (great television) I called Daught traumatized and pleaded with her.

"I know, I know you're busy with the job and the kids, I know. But by any chance, have you watched Desperate lately?"

"OMG yes!" she cried. "Did you believe that tornado?! Isn't the show amazing this season?"

Yes, in a word. But Sunday's show, the one following the storm, had only a few good moments, only a few scenes that really got to me emotionally.

They're usually the ones with Felicity Hoffman. I'll watch the whole show, alternating between treadmill and exercycle, knowing that some of it will surely be boring and annoying. But oh, those moments! When it's good, it's splendid.

Anyway, I'm going to tell over one of the scenes right now to make a couple of points, one about friendship, the other about the need to be perfect. How I'll relate the two is anyone's guess.

So as you may know, one of the housewives, Bree Hodge (Bree Van de Camp before she married Orson Hodge) is a perfectionist. She casts a spell over everything she cooks, everything she bakes. Her house is immaculate. She irons her sheets. She has a spice garden. She's gorgeous, always dressed. Her make-up's perfect. Heck, she's Marcia Cross.

Her house is wrecked from the tornado and her friend Susan (Teri Hatcher), always the people pleaser, offers up her home as Bree's temporary residence. Susan's daughter Julie (Andrea Bowen) is really upset about it and correctly predicts that Bree and Orson (also a perfectionist, played by Kyle MacLachlan, I love him) will be moving furniture within the hour.

But Susan can't say no to Bree. Make yourself at home, that's what friends are for, she says. We help one another. The show thrives on hyperbole, which is why it's cute, of course.

By evening the next day Susan returns from work (I guess she works). The ambiance in the house is sensuous, the room lit by candle light, the table set. Classical music filters through the the house and remarkable smells waft from the kitchen. Julie sweeps down the stairs to greet her mother:

"Welcome to Heaven," she says, obviously thrilled.

And it is heaven. They realize they can get very used to Bree, very used to ironed pillow cases and the smell of lilac.

But of course there's conflict. Bree essentially pimps out her own son to a gay roofer, hoping the roofer will move along the construction. Susan squashes the plan because she doesn't want the roofer to hasten Bree's exodus from her home.

Bree sits Susan down To Talk.

Susan fesses up. She doesn't want Bree to leave so soon because having her there is keeping her sane. The only reason that Susan is functioning at all is that Bree is there, taking care of her. Without Bree, Susan can't make it right now. She has issues. She's pregnant and her husband is in drug rehab.

But basically, Susan is Teri Hatcher. She has to have issues.

It's not codependency, it's friendship. Bree softens up, bakes Susan cookies, brings her a glass of milk. That's what friends are for.

So we need to take a second look at this, my friends. Bree's natural care-taking qualities, the way she takes care of house and home. "Heaven" is holding Susan together. Susan feels nurtured. She's fed, literally.

But as much as Bree is a perfectionist at material things, and gets it that her friend needs her, as a parent she's a disaster. Pimping your son? Is the lesson here that perfection is in the eye of the beholder? Or is it that denial rules. I can make a perfect crème brulée and pimp out my son.

Pick Door Number Two.

Therapists tend to pick at perfectionists as O.C., obsessive-compulsive, but that's really not fair. There are people out there who can do it all, parent well, keep a great house, attend to their parents and spouses, call their aunts and uncles, deacon at the church. And they don't always crack under the pressure, either.

At the risk of simplifying, it depends upon the support system, among other things. Energy out versus energy in. A person needs balance and a vacation now and then to function consistently well. A rewarding job really helps, add exercize, maybe spirituality, too. And eliminate all those other variables like an onset of depression, loss. Resolution of family of origin and marital issues helps. Getting handed divorce papers, on the other hand, can blow your whole day, really put a dent in the vacuuming.

Add it all up, make your subtractions, and trying to to be perfect might just net you headaches, ulcers, sleeplessness, all kinds of stress related physiological feed back.

Sometimes it affects the kids, too, setting that bar too high, either for yourself or for them. Demanding, perfectionistic parents are a challenge. Most kids have difficulty flipping them off, as hard as they'll try to rebel. And if they don't rebel, they're the ones with the headaches. Or they become care-takers, possibly co-dependents. Surely I'm simplifying. There are other outcomes.

Like a child's self-esteem, for example, that can suffer in the process of making mental comparisons with the perfect mom, the perfect dad. To me, the perfect mom lives in the shadows. Maybe not in the shadows, but she tries to stay backstage, be there as the working memory on the family computer that never breaks down. She's not perfect. She makes mistakes and owns them.

I think the saying is To err is human, to forgive, divine. Error makes us palpable, it's what we can relate to, the fallibility in our personalities and in the personalities of others.

Bree manages to make the perfect quiche. Do we really care?

Well. . .

Listen, we LIKE a good quiche. That kind of perfectionism, making the tangible in life excellent, is only dysfunctional when it hurts, when it's achieved at the expense of self (too much energy out) and something more important, like a child or spouse's well-being, or neglecting an elderly relative.

And perfect, it's my job to tell you, is only one level of functioning. It's nice. It's a very nice level. But it all depends upon what you're measuring.

It's nice to make a great dinner and not burn anything :)

It's nice to fold the laundry well, make the beds, sort the mail and pay your taxes on time. But doing it really well when other things (like people) get less out of you might mean that although you're functioning very highly, perhaps you're not really functioning well enough.

So yeah, we therapydocs tell you to drop it. Drop your coat on the floor, leave the dishes on the table for awhile, give the brain a rest and play with your kids.

Although Bree's perfectionist home-making make Susan feel nurtured, it's questionable whether or not her perfectionism really mattered all that much to Susan. I'm guessing that the perfect crème brulée is what we call the spurious variable in therapy. It just so happened.

The variable that matters, surely, is Bree's understanding. Her empathy cements the friendship. And let's not forget. Susan confides in Bree, she trusts her. I'd say pick Doors Number Two and Three, Trust and that corallary, sensing the freedom to speak intimately. A real blessing if you have that. It's not a given in life.

Indeed, the television is probably the best friend for millions of people who live alone.

So if you've got a friend who will make you cookies when you're down, you're incredibly lucky. And if she's understanding, and on top of that, makes really good cookies? Luckier still.

therapydoc