I caught a glimpse of myself in a plate glass shop window the other day. I was walking ‘hurriedly’ toward my next destination. If, I’d had a bit more jaunt in my steps and Patsy trotting behind me clapping two coconut shells together I could have been mistaken for one of the knights of the round table in Monty Python’s Search for the Holy Grail. Lida insists on posing much like she is holding imaginary horse reins when I walk quickly. I try to relax the muscles in my bicep, but whenever the tiniest bit of stress arises my arm draws up. At my last neurologist appointment he shot Lida full of Botox. But she still won’t relax. I am sick and tired of this posture, so I know everyone else is sick of looking at Lida; it is such an affected pose. I am apologizing for Lida. She’s ill behaved. And I am unable to whip her into shape at the moment.