Jess is slouched on a gray, tweed-patterned couch. She is in the middle of a conversation with her Therapist, who is facing her, seated in a wooden rocking chair.
Jess: So, I tried to blog about my relationship with The Italian. I found it really easy to describe how great things were when we started dating, and nearly impossible to describe why I had to end things.
Therapist: You should save that for your novel -- that was a five year relationship, after all. And the reasons for it ending are far too nuanced for a single blog post.
Jess: My novel...I like that.
Jess: But you're right. Things with The Italian were just too ....complicated for me to try to describe in single post. And besides, I want my blog to be about what my life is like now and where I'm going, not how things were. I just wish I had more to report than "I'm working a lot" and "So far, 31 isn't too bad". I mean, I want to be entertaining!
Therapist: I'm sure you'll find something to write about.
Therapist: (glancing at watch) Well, we're out of time. I want to remind you that I'm going to be out of town -- you know who will be on call while I'm away....
Jess: (sitting upright) What?! That quack? She still has a license?!
Therapist: Now, now...
Jess: I can't believe you're leaving me in the hands of that lunatic. Talk about the innmate running the asylum. This is outrageous...!
Therapist: .... she's your mother.
Jess: Exactly my point! What if she drives me to a psychotic break? What if I have a nervous breakdown! Or need to get a refill for something?
Therapist: (laughs) You can call me.
Jess: Hmph. I'll see you when you get back, then.