but I insisted that I did not wish to take any tablets, at least initially.
I was worried that I might start to rely on them in the same way that I’d been relying on vodka.
I did, however, reluctantly agree to see a counselor as a first step, and the inaugural session had been scheduled for today.
I had been assigned to a Maria Temple—no title provided.
I cared nothing for her marital status, but it would have been helpful to know in advance
whether or not she was in possession of any formal medical qualifications.
Her office was located on the third floor of a modern block in the city center.
The lift had transported me back in time to that least belle of époques —the 1980s.
Gray gray gray, sludgy pastels, dirty plastic, nasty carpets. It smelled like it hadn’t been cleaned since the 1980s either.
I had been reluctant to attend the counseling session from the outset,
and to do so in this setting made it even less enticing, if such a thing were possible.
Sadly, the environment was all too familiar, and this was, in its own way, a comfort.
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