The dog actually groaned because I'm sitting on the couch while the wind is trying to rip off the roof. He wants to go out and get muddy as hell and he doesn't care about wind and rain and cold.
Ok, off we go.
The tyranny of animals.
But as long as I get to come back and watch the last few remaining episodes of West Wing, which if you missed, is a damn fine series about politics.
It doesn't hurt that Jimmy Smit is running for president either. A latino president, yeah! I mean, why not?
I've been to two therapists this week and believe me, I'm all better now. Will I be in therapy forever? Can I stop at some point and be done, as good as it gets?
I plan to go dancing tonight, land of hippies and floaty dresses and music I didn't pick out. It's cheap entertainment and as long as I can stand up and wiggle my ass, I'm there. So join me, even if you're in your living room.
The dog is groaning again. I better go now.