The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

Dear Diary. I'm paying a German girl 15 euros an hour so I can talk to her about my problems. She calls it therapy but really it's just her listening to my problems and then giving shit advice.

Today we met in a coffee shop. I entered the shop. Exposed brick walls, hardwood tables, ivy hanging down from the ceiling. Everything screamed "hipster".

Denise was sitting at a table with a view of the river. She's a 29-year-old blonde. Today she was wearing jeans and a hippy-esque blouse with a floral pattern.

She had bought herself an iced chai latte for €4.50 and a cookie for €3, thus blowing half of her €15 therapy fee before we'd even begun. And we wonder why poor people are poor.

Then we wasted the first 45 minutes of the session making small talk, about:

• my cousin, who's on OnlyFans
• her friend who has an eating disorder
• my old job writing other people's essays
• my gym routine
• Craigslist (She hadn't heard of Craigslist)
• my current job, making books using Amazon self-publishing

She seemed especially interested in my current job (perhaps she wants to steal it).

I was itching to get started on the therapy, so with only fifteen minutes of the session left, I asked her, "Is it alright if I talk for a bit? Can I tell you about my week?"

"Oh, yeah, sure" she said, smiling.

"Well I had a good day yesterday," I said. "I did a gym class, I got four hours of work done (which is a lot for me), and I spent time with my kids. In the evening I went bouldering and I met Steffi and Maria there. And I met two new people there called Driss and Eddy."

I tried to think what else I could tell her.

"I'm obsessed with looking attractive," I said. "That's why I go to the gym so often. But one day I realised I'm probably just a 2/10, and I felt a blessed relief because I no longer had to carry the burden of trying to appear attractive to women."

Then she said, "You know, I have something that might help you." On a piece of paper she drew a circle. "In this circle are the things you can control." Then she drew another circle around the first one. "And in this circle are the things you can't control."

I understood it instantly. "You're saying that I should only worry about the things I can control? And let the other things go?

"That's it."

It was like a revelation. I instantly felt calmer and more at peace.

"Thanks," I said. "That actually helps."

I had no money on me but she said, "It's fine, you can pay me next time."

I went home feeling happy. I don't have to worry about what people think about me, because I can't control that. In fact, I don't have to worry about anything at all.

Girlfriend came home. "6-year-old has nits," she said.

She had taken him to the hairdresser and the hairdresser had seen the nits.

Girlfriend had bought a medicated lotion to kill the nits. She rubbed the lotion into his hair and then combed through his hair with a nit comb to remove the dead nits.

In the evening, at 7 pm, I went to the gym and did my second gym class of the day: Bodycombat. I didn't have time to have a shower afterwards so I went straight home. Girlfriend said I smelled.

My tooth/gum has been hurting all day today. Tried brushing it, it didn't help. At the end of the day I took some floss and dug it in there. I pulled out a tiny black speck, the size of a nit egg. That's what was causing the pain. I don't think an actual nit egg somehow made it into my teeth but that's the size it was. It was even smaller than a chai seed.

After the kids went to bed I felt physically tired from all the exercise today so I lay on the sofa and watched the first episode of season 2 of Loki.

Got ready for bed. Applied a second packet of testosterone gel to my body. I'm getting stronger. My muscles feel sore, which is good. Sore muscles = big muscles. My chest feels bigger. My back feels straighter. Soon, dear diary, I will be a MAN.