Can it be?

Am I seeing things or is that a tiny ray of sunshine peeping out from the dark clouds? For a small window of time on my morning commute I wore sunglasses. Not because of the sun glaring in my eyes but from the possibility of sun and my poor cloud induced eyes were straining from that possibility. If you all are watching CNN (which I'm not) or any other major news network I've heard that the coverage about our rain is making it out to be another Katrina/New Orleans type disaster. It's not and we are all ok.

That out of the way I had my third therapy session last night. It actually went well and was the best one yet. She stuck to her guns though and threw out that thorny question I loathe, "What do you hope to get from therapy?" Crap! I don't know lady! I don't want to backslide into the depression that is PPD that is for sure. I told her I'm off the meds and she actually thought that was a great thing, but that I need to see a psychiatrist to be evaluated still. Augh. I so don't want to do that. I went to one once in college and it was all brain-fucky. Yuck. It's to see if I need more meds or a different type and if so what dose. Who cares is what I say but I'll do it and humor the nice counselor lady. And H. It does make me question- What do I hope to get out of all this. I told her I would like to be less controlling. She asked me if H. thought I was controlling. I told her no. She then asked, "Are you mean to him?" Hmm.... let's see. I'm sarcastic as hell with him, I don't touch him much these days and he did tell me I've been rather cold lately. Mean? Nope, not me. Actually I did fess up and say- "Well, I am but, that's what he loves about me! Except when you throw that whole depression thing in there and well, then that's no fun." She told me she likes how honest I am. GOLD STAR FOR ME!! I told her about the blog too. She thinks it's good therapy for me. I rock and earn another gold star. So in all, it was a good session. We are staying away from the whole issue of my parents and my past male experiences and we're going to dive into my "mother's guilt" next time. That is going to be as much fun as wrangling a bag full of cats on meth.

Update: It seems that the neighbor I thought I had in my corner in the poop feud did NOT say anything to the dimwits next door. Sigh... But, she is going to. Just not about the poop. Well, she might throw it in there I can only hope. She apparently has other issues with the rocks for brains neighbors. For some reason their laziness extends to their backyard and beyond their inability to pick up dog shite. They trudge through her yard and bushes that she lovingly cultivates with their giant trashcans each week (we have trash service twice a week, so really it's four times of lugging those things through her yard). The geniuses are ruining her yard. You might ask or wonder to yourself, "How hard would it be to go around this woman's yard?" Oh reader, not hard at all. It's about a one foot difference. There's no fence, nothing! It defies logic on why they tread on her property to do this. It seriously makes me want to start boobie trapping their yard, slicing their tires and feeding antifreeze to their cats (ok that one I'll admit was harsh, the cats have done nothing wrong here). They just make me insane. H. has barred me discussing this issue at home so I need an outlet. He is so frustrated it keeps him awake at night. Can we evict them?