Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Therapist Not a Missionary

I am a therapist and not a missionary. I will help you, but don't push it. One particular child likes to get daily hugs. I always give him a side hug. No, I am not a Duggar, but there is no way that this chest........

is touching this chest.

I try to be therapeutic as I know that everyone needs the human touch( cue Rick Springfield's 80's song, "Human Touch.") He thrives on it, but I had to draw the line when these grimy fingers touched my cheek today.

"Feel how cold my hands are."

Before I could stop him he touched my left cheek right about in the middle- yep, I can still feel it- his hand stroked my cheek.

Let me tell you that those fingers were not just cold. They were cold and clammy. Clammy means sweaty. I'm going to the bathroom to wash my face and redo my makeup.

By the way, don't my boobs look like two cantaloupes without the rind? They do to me.


  1. Two words - Personal. Space.

    I'm one of those freaks who need lots of it. Lots and lots and lots. Probably why I'm not married... :)

  2. LOL...I would have washed my face too!

    There was this guy that I worked with (well he was the companies truck driver) and he was filthy, and stinky...and yep you guessed it, very huggy! He didn't care how much you refused, he would at least try for a side hug (outside of being totally icky, he really was a nice little old man). I finally got him to agree that he absolutely could not touch me if I was wearing white. Thank god for white!

  3. No dear..your boobs look good. Bra from Victoria Secrets? One of those foamy kind????

    Not that I'm looking...but hey..I have new dyke hair so...maybe it's catching...(HORRIBLE NEW HAIR CUT)...bleh....

  4. Just wanted to update you...Check out my last post about interviewing at a Drug Detox place. UGH. REALLY. --a "GROUP" interview...6 at the same time for the same position.