April 12. Day 103. Pulling the wool over your eyes

I once spent almost entire session with the psychologist defending my decision to be and definition of "nice". This was almost certainly not a good use of a government-funded counselling session but there it is. I said that no matter what "sh*t" was going on around me, the best response I could muster was the face the world and be as "nice" as possible. To the psychologist "nice" had connotations of "nice girls don't" or being a martyr, or always putting others first. Then and now I believe that to be crap and perhaps explains why I no longer seek counselling. I may be still mad but the counselling made me madder which I didn't think was the point, just the opposite, actually. Anyway, for the life of me I can't see what's wrong with being nice. Considering others doesn't make you weak and wimpy. I strongly believe what goes around, comes around and if you think of others, others should think of you. This attitude is what found me and 88-year-old Margaret from next door going wool shopping and getting a new bank book. These days, Margaret needs help with such chores and I'm her go-to girl. It's painfully slow but when you know what a difference it makes to her life, why wouldn't you help? I can get around. She can't. I help. It's really that simple. And it still leaves me time to do the things that I like which today was a dog walk to South Bank where we ran into Fur Clubbers, a group of adults who gather every Tuesday to dress up in fur for no other reason other than they can and it's nice to do so. I like that.