Now you see it...

In an attempt to distract Georgians from the horror show that is our public school system, having just earned our rightful place of 46th in the nation on SAT scores, the "baggy pants" debate rages on.

However, they did agree to continue to debate whether the city should regulate whether folks can walk around Atlanta with saggy pants and exposed undies. Council members expect to create a 10- to 12-member task force soon to further the debate and decide whether Atlanta should —- or can —- pass a law to control fashion.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, SAT scores dropped, but by god, we held onto our slot in 46th with all our might.

We're just not gonna last in this town.

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skin deep

life's stressors have been mounting at our house since March pretty steadily. if i believed in conspiracy theories, i'd be surveying the grassy knoll down the street 24x7. Traumatrain could you pass by? I'm not taking delivery anymore.

As a brief update, George's mother is still on life support in the hospital in Florida; George has to have some medical procedures done in the next couple of weeks; and there's more but why bore you with sadness when I can tickle you with a funny story...

So, given the amount of stress, I have augmented my general and consistent recovery work with another prong. I attended a session yesterday with a Helping Professional (AKA: shrink) to evaluate medicine options. I thought the appointment went well, albiet quickly. I felt that I shared what I needed to share to get him up to speed and keep him in the loop. Yep, that all went pretty well, I thought, walking down the hall toward the exit. "Good job, me."

That's when I glanced down at my sleeve and realized my shirt was on inside out.

Like all day.

Like, yes, during my session.

When I laughed and thought, I have to blog this, I knew I could check yesterday off as a "made it through++" day.

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