Therapy Goal VI

Time relativity strikes again. The weekend went entirely too fast. The good times definitely move faster than the hard times. It appears that B is clearly under review for a place in this poorly defined scheme Hubs is working here. Appears. We see what grows.

Tiggy goes into the shop this morning. Halfway through the chew period I defined for this current round of psychopations. Is it a bonus that the River Region legal yaddahs reached semi-closure during this chew period? My obscure beginnings in the under-belly of one of the most opulent cultures in the history of the world make legal yaddahs especially sensitive psycho trigger for me. They get me babbling like a User Agreement from Hell. As all those heretos and wherefores fall away, will I find a more clear inventory of what remains of the River Dreams which distinguished me as a robbery mark? Sorting. . .

Possibly the biggest development in the current psychopations is inserting a "How 'Bout them Cowboys" signal for Hubs' habit of preaching to the choir. Some of our gnarliest tit-for-tat skirmishes spring out of arenas where we are in full agreement but he needs to ? ? ? His needs are his to sort, but he sure can go on forever about saying ^it^ his way on his busy schedule. The choir is using all the extra wait time to make mud pies just for you, Preacher! How 'bout them cowboys? We heard you many heretos and wherefores ago! Can you get that righteous cotton out of your ears now? Psychopating. . . Fissuring. . . Wishing you could show us a little bit of the Faith you keep preaching at us. . . Yes, I believe the use of the plural is appropriate, even though this little eggshell waltz is strictly between Hubs and I. His drive to repeat himself in different words can go on long and hard enough to give me plenty of time to trigger through ALL of my psychopations while I keep adding layers of duct tape over my mouth waiting for a subject change.

I'm probably not saying ^it^ right this time, either, but it sure felt good to cut him off without rancor as he launched into a lecture about the complex layers of busy agendas attached to the screening of B's candidate potential. That potential did spring from corporate halls, after all. The two tech exec fathers work together. The other tech daddy has a complex domestic arena of his own. That's ALLOT of complex sorting. In you I trust, babycakes. I have long understood that I am not invited to get past the lobby security desk, much less attend the board meetings. Please trust me to manage my own solitary waiting periods in return.