It is August, the month that Psychoanalysts traditionally take off and head for the Cape. Of course, in the 1950s, Psychoanalysts apparently were all wealthy and had waiting lists of patients! All the rich and famous felt somehow incomplete without an attempted analysis in their past. The poor soul who was unable to start a conversation by the ubiquitous locution, "My analyst says..." was frequently left off invitation lists at the salons of the wise and venerable. Alas, times change, and Psychoanalysts (especially those who practice in New York and have four children) must work for a living, even in the dog days of August. However, in homage to our forefathers, I plan on blogging very lightly, if at all, during the month. I also plan on taking some time off (though I will avoid the Cape) and catching up on some projects I have been neglecting and some books I have been waiting to get acquainted with.
I am fairly certain the world will persist in the absence of my blogging and will still be merrily heading wherever it is going, at a fine clip, in an out of control handbasket.
To all my readers, commenters, and friends, have a wonderful August.
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