Let's take a quick look at the facts here.
We have three psychiatrist co-bloggers and what do we know:
dinah is a mini-van sports mom (albeit a reluctant Snack Parent) who owns a personable dog with limited wants. She does psychotherapy in a solo private practice, works in a hospital-based community mental health center, and loves hot fudge sundaes. She will ride a segway at the request of a friend, but so far has not gone for Wall Climbing.
ClinkShrink works in a prison, used to own cats (who are mysteriously now dead by means not related to their gifted giblets), has a fascination with serial sex murders, is a walking encyclopedia of criminal history and torture, invited a man named FooFoo whom she's never met to vacation with her at a Russian Prison Camp, and looks like a nun (her self description, furthered by the fact that she doesn't do hair chemicals). If that's not enough, she posts links to costumes for guinea pigs (this just isn't normal, folks).
Roy is a smart computer geek who loves the ironic side of pop culture, works under a pile of disorganized papers, and fancies himself a victim of ADHD (prodded along by his wife who really just wants him to pick up his dirty socks--or so that's the story I've written) and self-medicates with Sudafed. He's an overworked shrink in an understaffed department trying to eek out a living.
Why, I want to know, does everyone want to look under MY floor boards.
" What has dinah done with Roy?"
I've seen it more than once, I've even seen it on someone else's blog.
I guarantee, if you dig up my floor boards, you'll find moldy chicken nuggets and apple sauce (no added sugar). If you dig up Clink's floor boards: who knows.
I am, I contend, innocent until proven guilty, and perplexed as to why I'd even be considered a suspect.