Last night I had a dream I was giving birth to my daughter late at night on November 24th, which the erudite among you know is the day before my birthday. It was a charming dream but in the same sort of soft focus infantile cast as my occasional 'I've just murdered someone, oh shit' dreams - me as a short, pale, glabrous (Germaine Greer taught me that word yesterday, I'm reading The Female Eunuch) streak, with hair like I had in grade five. Anyways, it was a telling dream full of symbolism and stuff, and it made me miss psychoanalysis some, but not enough to do it over the phone and at a higher hourly tariff, as my analyst suggested when I left Canada.
Also, I'm not sure finding someone here and continuing would be a wholly worthwhile investment, as, and I don't know if I've mentioned this, I think I've decided I don't want to be an analyst. Too hard, and the intrusion of the money factor into the dynamic is something I think I'd always have a difficult time with. Psychoanalysis feels like it should be a basic human right somehow, like health care should be, not a commodity you can sell for so much an hour. Like, in Switzerland, euthanasia is legal, which is fine and no doubt necessary for some people who go where for but the grace of God we don't. But it costs Euro 3,500, which is more than many cosmetic surgery procedures.
There's some sort of wrongness to all this I can't get over. But I think it comes down to the fact that I don't want people to make money off other people's sincere quests to end their own pain. It also comes down to the fact that, having rejected the poss of becoming an analyst, I'm now looking for a new post-corporate profession and am open to suggestions from the floor.