The Stars Go Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

LeAnn Rimes was caught crying today. Well, if you'd seen me trying to smash a large suitcase in a gym locker after slamming my Achilles in a door, you would have seen crying. Post slam, I went the entire subway ride to the gym thinking: My blood is soaking through my socks. There could be an artery near my Achilles. I'll bleed out in seconds. Someone will steal my iPad. I think the guy who regularly takes a dump on the E is in this car. I'll go through to the next car though that middle part is dangerous.
It's hard being Dish. So I watched The Shahs of Sunset for deep counsel and what do I get: 2 crazy quack therapists who allow cameras into the office and discuss things that make no sense:

1. Making mom and daughter do lists is juvenile. Telling Mom and daughter what to do is not therapeutic or sophisticated therapy. I just let my mom tell me what to do and she's usually right.
2. "Shuttling" is bullsh*t. For instance: Serene Dish is going to have a conversation with Insecure Dish and see who dominates the conversation I'm aging like my father. These games are lazy.
3. I want Reza to be my life coach.

I didn't even break skin with my accident. Dish needs therapy way more than Cray-cray GG. But then, here's what makes me sane again.