The second therapist was nice enough to sit down with me. She was a beautiful woman with a degree from Smith College. I sat on the couch and started telling her about my numerous anxieties. About fifteen minutes into the session she started yawning. I didn’t like that she suddenly sent a text message to someone, hiding her Blackberry under the desk, while I talked about some of my “performance problems.” A minute later, the therapist received a phone call. It was her “babysitter.” The therapist would have to cut short our first appointment because the sitter had to go home early.
“So, when do I see you again?” I asked.
“I’ll call you.”
Now with added clarification:Â 0% true!
A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month: Nauseous and Nauseated
I’ve got just the therapist for you. Great boundaries, no personal disclosures, never misses a thing, and already has experience with neurotic Jewish bloggers. Would you be willing to shlep up to Santa Monica once a week?
Absolutely! (although I’m trying to find one who takes my insurance). I was actually just going over the list of random therapists with no reason to call one over the other. I thought about using my mother’s method: just pick the Jewish name, but I once did that for my dentist, and he was awful.
I picked mine out using eeny, meany, miney, moe off of the list of eligible doctors.
Keeping plugging away at it. It’s kind of like dating.
I find a skimpy little skirt helps keep my therapist interested in listening to me.
Schmutzie is right about it being like dating. You have to go into it like you are interviewing them. In the end, there has to be chemistry (of the non-sexual variety, you dirty birdy!) between you and the therapist. They would rather not waste your or their time if you all don’t “click”, so don’t worry about rejection, being rejected and all that.
Can you tell I used to be a mental health worker?
Buena Suerte!
No one queued the rimshot yet, so I guess I’ll have to. Ba dump ba!
Seriously, I hope you find someone who can help you with your rejection issues, so you’ll blog about it and maybe that will help me with mine too.
I am skeptical that the above encounter really happened. A therapist who Blackberried someone during a session could lose her license. Next thing we know, you’ll be telling us about a therapist who tried to seduce you.
Try the county mental health center. It’s free and you will get lots of new blogging material in the waiting room!
on the positive side, you got 15 more minutes out of this one than the 1st one!
Come talk to me, sweetie. I don’t have a Blackberry.
I do, however, have a bottle of single malt under my desk, but I promise not to nip into it until at least 20 minutes have passed.
And I’ll share.
i knew you were full of it with this post. ha ha neil.
i’m extremely gullible, so please tell me you’re kidding and that the therapist didn’t really act this way.
oh, I am glad for the clarification!
I LOVE the new “percentage of truth” clarifications. Now I can stop assuming that all of what you write is 100% bullshit, and that you’re really an 18 year old girl living in Idaho.