Therapists & Squishy Birth Canal Slides

For the record I hate the taste of Red Bull more than I hate that awkward first conversation with a new therapist that usually begins with " well, it all started when I was 3 and grabbed an electric fence while standing in a stock tank..." because you know, city people are more interested in what an electric fence is then why a 3 year old was standing in murky water grabbing it. However, finding a non-city therapist isn't an option as they are known for saying things like "suck it up", "get over it" and "why are you crying NOW?"

In all actuality I have never had a therapist, so the above thought process is one of my many flights of fancy. Lucky for all of us, I have learned over the last year that blood is without meaning, and therefore I will have as many pointless flights of fancy as I feel like without fear of retribution or rejection from those forlorn souls who haven't had a genuinely fun thought since birth when they mistook the birth canal for a squishy slide. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE! (and stop reading my blog... it's creepin' me out). Edited to add: the therapist was imaginary but the grabbing of the fence actually happened...