I'm afraid I get double jointed at times from kicking myself in the tuchas.
I've become very good at it.

Blessed be,
Baha

My tuchas is permanently bruised from the self-kicking I indulge in. Of
course my therapist loves me and has the new Mercedes in her driveway to let
the world know what I've done for her! I shal try not to beat myself up so
badly.

I hate to sound self-indulgent...but yeah. Jeff's parents live a good
distance out so we're the main ones who come in. Not that they don't, I mean;
they're visiting in the afternoon when we're at work. The CCU has hour-long
blocks of time you can go to visit and because of the driving they're usually
in midday; we rarely see them and then it's usually a polite greeting, a
smidgen of small talk and on our way. We bring a couple of Jeff's friends who
are named on the list at the desk. Neither of these are the schmuck who
dumped Tigger on him. I've given up searching for that lummox anyway, and my
friend Mary will take that sweet kitty. So yeah, we do feel a little drained,
trying to get him to come around. I've noticed a few trips to the mall that I
hadn't intended to take and wondered where this or that lipstick came from;
and I realize the therapist will be very happy next session!

Bllessed be,
Baha

"What I look forward to, is continued immaturity, followed by death."
                                                   -- Dave Barry

Still my personal motto! :)

Joyce