Happy Belated Birthday, Victor!
Dear Victor,
I’m sorry I forgot to wish you happy birthday on the actual date. I hear you were rock climbing with ClinkShrink and hurt your knee, so I hope you are okay.
I would email you, but I’m at the hospital, and the computer here does not let me access my email addressbook. I’ve never understood why that is. I would put up a picture for you of pretty rocks or of a birthday cake, but the computer here doesn’t let me transfer images.
I would call you, but you don’t have a phone. This is a psychiatry blog, not a birthday blog, so perhaps here is where we can find a psychiatric theme in your cell-phone-free state. What does it mean when someone doesn’t own a cell phone? It has to mean something, right? WWFS? (What would Freud say?). Would Freud have a cell phone? I called your landline and sang, in my own tone deaf sort of way, but you didn’t answer that either.
Happy Birthday, Victor. Let’s eat!
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