I talked to my psychologist about the trouble I had sleeping at night. “My mind runs at a million miles an hour,” I said, which is confusing in itself – my knowledge of the imperial system is questionable at best – how can I accurately explain a speed in a measurement I don’t fully understand?
“What do you think about?” she asked.
“I wonder what I’d be like if a different sperm had arrived to the ovary first. Would I look the same?” I said. “I might be a little taller, have more hair, walk with a limp, enjoy running, have less difficulty spelling psychologist. Do you think each sperm has a unique appearance?” I added. “Surely they do – everything in this world is diverse.”
“It sounds like you’re unsatisfied with your role in this world. There’s a sign of relationship issues and definite separation anxiety,” she said. “Come back next week and we’ll explore further.”
The session didn’t help at all. I’d never be so concerned in my life. On my way home I passed by a health food store. Perhaps the hippies had something that would help me sleep.
“Why are you finding it difficult to sleep?” asked the casually dressed employee. ‘Here we go again’ I thought. ‘This is worse than the therapy. The same interrogation carried out by a balding man with a ponytail.’ I gave him the rundown.
“I don’t think you need anything,” he said. “If a different sperm had connected you never would’ve existed. Someone completely different would be standing in your shoes.”
I’ll never say a word against alternative medicine again. I hadn’t slept so well in years.
“What do you think about?” she asked.
“I wonder what I’d be like if a different sperm had arrived to the ovary first. Would I look the same?” I said. “I might be a little taller, have more hair, walk with a limp, enjoy running, have less difficulty spelling psychologist. Do you think each sperm has a unique appearance?” I added. “Surely they do – everything in this world is diverse.”
“It sounds like you’re unsatisfied with your role in this world. There’s a sign of relationship issues and definite separation anxiety,” she said. “Come back next week and we’ll explore further.”
The session didn’t help at all. I’d never be so concerned in my life. On my way home I passed by a health food store. Perhaps the hippies had something that would help me sleep.
“Why are you finding it difficult to sleep?” asked the casually dressed employee. ‘Here we go again’ I thought. ‘This is worse than the therapy. The same interrogation carried out by a balding man with a ponytail.’ I gave him the rundown.
“I don’t think you need anything,” he said. “If a different sperm had connected you never would’ve existed. Someone completely different would be standing in your shoes.”
I’ll never say a word against alternative medicine again. I hadn’t slept so well in years.