Client R.

I considered my work with R. to have come to an end a few months ago but she doesn't feel the same and so, aside from considering that some things are only ended by sex and death, I have plodded along with her stale wishes. She says that her desire to continue therapy proves there are old dependencies and, therefore, the necessity of dealing with them. I am not unaware, of course, that in these winter months it is a peculiar thing to wear tops that reveal such a distinct outline to the nipple and it is this, rather then her own protests of dependency, that suggest a more cogent case for continuing our work. I will see her this morning and, assuredly, the ancient argument will arise for enacting desire, rather than it's articulation. Of course, the planet is going to hell in a handcart in the service of articulation and yet, inevitably, I shall ensure a pipe of O to hand, the better to collude with the necessary suppression, not to say the death of the planet.

Helen is quiet.

As for George, I accepted an invite to dinner. He allowed me to know the Thai friend will be cooking for us. I pictured George and I licking madly from the same bowl.