By Kerry O’Sullivan (2017)
You work hard to become a psychologist. Years and years of work to sit there in a chair and listen to the whims and worries of the people priviledged enough to afford a psychologist- probably the group of people that need it the least.
Ive just turned the page in my notebook when a new patient scurries in and shuts the door behind her. She’s old. Shes withered and looking at me as if I’m about to slap her. I sigh inwardly, looks like lunch will have to wait.
“Hello, Ms.-uhh” I say as I search for her name through my recent emails, clicking past 20,000 word tales of sorrow from rich people.