My therapist is hot. Extremely, distractingly hot. So hot, I don’t know how she’s not stalked by all of her male patients, er, clients. That’s probably one of the reasons why she gets to charge so much (see About My Blog). It’s also probably a good thing she doesn’t do couples therapy.
She’s no slouch in the brain department, either. Calling her a therapist is like referring to David Berkowitz as an arsonist. Yes, true, no lies there. But she’s actually a neuropsychiatrist, which totally ups the lust factor for me. Anyone who can explain the science of our actions and personalities is about as close to God as I’m going to get. If I believed in God, that is. Which is what makes neuroscientists all the more fascinating. Okay, I’m creeping you all out a bit. I swear I’m not stalking My Pretty Therapist (think My Pretty Pony).
I brought my boyfriend to see her once. He agreed. Too hot for him to engage in psychobabble with. The next time I saw her she said, “Your boyfriend is hot!” Um, hands off, you perfect string of DNA. You’re mine.
Then there’s her personality. At first, she’s all business-like and you think, hey, was she a backup dancer for Robert Palmer? And then next thing you know, she’s calling you honey, which normally you hate – too cloying — but coming from her, it doesn’t seem so bad. In fact, you kind of like it. And then you call her on her cell phone and she calls you back while she’s shoe-shopping and she’s all BFF with you, and you’re like, OMG, she’s so cool! She likes shoes! I like shoes! I must be normal, too! And then you’re cured, just like that. Amazing. But you still go to see her, because she’s hot. Except I don’t see her so much anymore. You know, because she’s so expensive. And there was the restraining order. But I know she still loves me. That’s how I know I’m not crazy. She tells me so… through the neighbor’s dog.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tagged: david berkowitz, hot therapist, my pretty pony, neuroscience, robert palmer
I could never deal with a hot therapist. I have enough self-esteem problems as it is.
[...] our weekly therapy session with possibly the world’s best shrink (not to be confused with the world’s hottest shrink who I see individually whenever the world starts to feel a little [...]
My therapist is so hot, it’s not even funny. I mean, she has probably D Cups, as well as a perfect body, gorgeous face, what’s not to love? About a month ago, I asked if she would engage in sexual activity with me, and in a complex way, she politely said “no.” She did, however, say that I was very brave to ask such a question… but I assume there will be a possibility of such activity in the future.
my therapist is ridiculously gorgeous and she makes me feel so good inside I can never see her again. I wish she was mine. I so wish she was mine and I’d never have to look for love again. She seems so damn perfect it’s scary.. the way she looks at me just melts me on the inside and the ease I have talking to her is superior. i cant’ help but feel special the way she looks into my eyes all deep and unflinching. I have to keep reminding myself that she treats me this well because she’s a therapist, and she knows how to make people feel comfortable and at home.. but i just can’t see her if I can’t be with her.
so yeah.. i just don’t want to get attached to a hopeless cause… and then why would she want to be with her client and not someone who understands people just as well as she does.. i just gotta leave her alone..
btw i’m glad you shared. that helped me .