Oh another holiday, what a delight. Here's a philosophical question for you:

Is therapy still therapy when it is more holiday than therapy?

I hate you going on holiday as much as I hate men wearing aftershave and people who sneeze on public transport. I hate it as much as I hate twisted bra straps and people who eat with their mouths open.

Why do you go on holiday? Why don't you want to speak to me every week? Why don't you do what I want?