That Guy

It's 4-1 Boston over Cleveland in the 7th inning... man, I love it.

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This is the week in which my counseling has taken a serious turn. I can't get into it, but you know, sometimes we see clients with serious concerns.

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So here I am in my second-to-last semester, and I'm only just now taking theories of counseling. It's just the way my schedule ended up.

I'm in there with a new cohort, a bunch of folks who are all in their first semester of grad school. It's an intelligent, chatty bunch. I like 'em.

They know I'm in practicum, and it's put me in an interesting position. I felt a couple times like I was getting too much attention. Our terrific prof is always willing to toss a question my way, or to seek my opinion on something. It's flattering, and a couple times I felt like I was becoming the center of attention too often. I made a real effort to sit back in class and let the others hold the discussions without much input from me. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

Last week a student took me aside to chat, and as we wrapped up I shared my concerns that I was in this slightly awkward position, and that if I were one of the new students, I wouldn't want to hear so much from a student like me.

She was very sweet, and said that no, I don't come off that way at all. She added that they like and respect me.

I'm flattered for sure.

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I've received a couple scattered emails from those kind folks since then, soliciting my input on this or that. It's nice.

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We toured the on-campus clinic tonight, where I've begun to see clients. One asked me some questions about how it flowed the very first time, whether I knew what to say. And I told her something I don't fully understand, but it's true: I've never been afraid. Not significantly anyway. I don't know why.

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BB tired. Friday approaches. Caffeinated love to you all.