Repression

I have been trying with difficulty to repress the situation with my father. Teaching and other needy students pelleting me with questions about academia and life are wonderful distractions. The latest news is that his cognition is returning. He is no longer telling stories of the staff taking all of the patients for a field trip to the freeway and leaving them on the divider strip. Still, these incidents do make one do some heavy thinking about one's gene pool. What are those little buggers up to and how many of those nasty ones have hopped off of that X or Y chromosome hitching a ride making me? As Scarlett said "I'll worry about that tomorrow."

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