Did you ever wonder what your therapist is thinking? A therapist myself, I’ll disclose some things she probably won’t tell you:
There are weeks you have it more together than she does.
She sometimes battles the urge to babble about her cat’s exquisite cuteness.
Hopes you’ll come five minutes late so she can sneak a peek at Facebook.
Would love to hear specifics about your sex life.
Leaves notes for people who take up two parking spaces.
Is on Zoloft.
If your therapist is one to put her feet up during sessions, she’ll go to extremes to peel the price off the bottom of her shoes. (Pay Less? Gucci? Either way, it’s too much information.)
If she says, “We’re out of time” and you start bitching about your Aunt Kate, she’ll be annoyed. Doubly so if she has to pee.
If you rub your eyes and mess up your eyebrows — hairs going every which way — it will drive her batshit crazy.
Now and again, her attention is focused on sucking in her gut.
Or stifling an urge to scratch an itch in her crotch.
Or wondering what the hell to say next.
She cares deeply about you, but, as you see, can be a little neurotic.
She hopes you can forgive her that.