I go back to therapy tomorrow. My 'sessions' have been interesting to say the least. I had the classic ideas about therapy. That I'd lie on a couch and talk about my mother and my childhood. That she'd show my pictures of ink stains and I'd say that they reminded me of boobs or demons (or demons with boobs). Of course all this comes from TV. And, suprisingly, with the exception of the demon boobs, it was all very accurate.
I can't shake the mental image of Bugs Bunny as Dr. Frued and Elmer Fudd on the couch...
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