intrusively reflective

I found myself thinking about my dad again today. I think it was a bit of self-pity fuelled by tiredness, but I couldn’t help reaching the conclusion that Hannah, Sophie and I got dealt a pretty rough hand when it came to parents.  I did call Sophie this evening to try and talk about it, but as soon as I said “I’ve been thinking about dad” she said “He was a prick. Forget about him.” and that was that.
Philippa, being the astute intelligent lady that she is, realised something has been bothering me and got me to chat about it, which was nice and actually helped a little. She said maybe I should consider seeing a counsellor about it, as it’s obviously playing on my mind a lot.
I might consider that.
Or I might do my usual trick of just ignoring it until it’s buried deep inside me somewhere, and just hope it doesn’t surface again any time soon.
Yes, that sounds like a much better idea.

RC 24-6-15