Dear Ms. Demeanor,
I will cut to the chase - MY SHRINK MOVED IN TO MY BUILDING!!! Do I move or find a new shrink or just take the stairs to avoid seeing her in the elevator??? I love my apartment, I love my building, and I think she is a fantastic therapist (who actually takes my insurance) but I am starting to hide out in my apartment at times when I think I might see her.
I am reminded of the line in When Harry Met Sally when Harry says, "In a city of 8 million people you are bound to run in to your ex-wife, so BOOM it happened."
Your shrink has to live somewhere. Did you think that couch was a pull-out that she sleeps on when her patients aren't there?
If your reluctance to run into her in the lobby develops into a full-blown case of agoraphobia, to whom will you go for treatment?
As you may remember, Ms. D was a doctor in a galaxy far, far away, so I am very mindful of the boundaries imposed and necessitated by the doctor/patient relationship. This means I do not approve of Googling non-professional information about one's physicians or friending them on Facebook. By the same token, I am certain your therapist will maintain appropriate professional nonchalance and distance and so should you. Verical dwellers in general and New Yorkers in particular are notoriously accused of being 'unneighborly'. Now you have a good excuse!
Besides, no New Yorker worth his or her salted pretzel would give up an apartment they love or a therapist who takes insurance.
Do you know if she accepts Oxford?
Ms. Demeanor is channeled by a longtime Manhattan vertical dweller and real-estate voyeur who writes under the pen name Jamie Lauren Sutton. She is here to commiserate, calm and correct. Please email your quandaries to [email protected] and put "Dear Ms. Demeanor" in the subject line.