First part from the Couch:

So Piaf was sporting cleavage today. More discreet than Info—because how could it not be?—but she had a pendant hanging into the Valley of the Dolls and my eye kept following it down.

Opening scene:

ATAT: So we’re 18 weeks into the year and you’ve taken two separate three week breaks. Can I expect your pattern to be six weeks on, three weeks off?
Piaf: Pretty much, yes.

She refused to confirm or deny that she was caving deep below the earth. “That would be something to do, wouldn’t it?” So I’m gonna persist in that fantasy.

Adding here:

Then I showed her my audiogram from yesterday’s hearing test and explained how to read it to her. At sixty the woman does not get regular hearing tests. Well, I guess you don’t need keen hearing in the bowels of the earth.

Incidentally we seem to have this pattern where she tells me things are bad (hearingwise) and I tell her they’re not as bad as could be (other relatives have it worse) and we stalemate. Last time I told her about the most embarrassing thing that happened to me as a result of my hearing, and she referred to it today as a “tragedy of errors.” I pointed out it had a happy ending. She said that didn’t matter. I said she was making it into a melodrama of errors.

I’d sort of thought hearing would take up the whole time but we were only halfway through. She said I could leave if I wanted to. (I was doing my usual do-not-want-to-be-here body language.)

Then I told her about the problems I’m having settling down to a writing routine this summer. This is where things got irritating, because it felt like we kept going in circles before we got anywhere towards discussing implementing a possible solution. I know what the solution is anyway, set up a routine. The problem isn’t a solution, the problem is carrying it through. Finaliy she said, “well, are you going to let that stop you?” You can tell she used to be a personal trainer.

I said I would like to think not, but obviously I was. Then I added I was irritated enough with her to go home right now and start writing. To which she said, “Go!” and pointed at the door.

And the session ended there. It was in fact time to be over, except then I had to wait while she checked the next appointment time and handed me the receipt/invoice/documentation for the session.

I really didn’t like the ending. It was a joke, but I don’t think we’re in that territory yet. Especially since thanks to her vacation schedule we’ve had about 10 sessions, maybe less.