Appointment made, but no big hopes. Its worth a shot, and the diagnosis would be worth a ton in W's eyes, then she wouldn't see me as broken, only off-kilter.

This talk reminds me of a three legged sculpture I made in college I titled, "Preposterone" the dean bought it, but couldn't handle looking at the bumpy copper "third leg" (BTW the dean must not have understood the meaning of the sculpture, most lesbians would have gotten a kick out of it, but not her)