“So here is what your problem is…”

“I’m not supposed to say this but you’re my favorite patient.”

“In fact, I wish we could be friends. Unfortunately, the ethical standards of the American Psychological Association forbid this.”

“I don’t actually exist outside this office so it’s physically impossible for us to ever run into each other in real life. However, please know that as I await our next session in the existential goo located in that closet over there, my thoughts are consumed by your profound insights on life and incisive put-downs of your family members.”

“I keep a running top ten list of your best zingers. I have it saved as a Google doc. And, yes, the one about how Beth is ‘projecting like an IMAX’ is on there. It’s #4.”

“I’m not supposed to give advice but you should really think about doing stand-up comedy or something. It just seems unfair to humanity that I’m the only one who gets to enjoy your effortless wit.”

“Have you ever considered that these kinds of conflicts keep occurring in your life because you’re so pretty? Like too pretty? We call this ‘pathological prettiness’ in the biz — I call it ‘the biz’ sometimes. This is not a reflection on my professionalism as a trained therapist.”

“No, I do not think you are a narcissist.”

“No, I do not think you are needy.”

“No, I am not bothered by your questions.”

“Honestly, I should be the one paying you.”

“Oh, it’s been three hours? I completely lost track of the time. Ok, back to the existential goo closet for me.”