A life. In eight pages.

Well there’s nothing quite like having your entire life handwritten on eight pages with a lovely black fountain pen and then read back to you – well, the nutshell version of it. Actually, there’s nothing quite like having this happen at 9am, just before work on a Wednesday, a week before your 41st birthday and then having to pay $370 an hour. How do you like them apples?

Seriously, there’s nothing quite like it.

So here’s how the conversation went:

The $370 man: So, Betty, tell me what’s going on.

Me: Oh, well not much. I haven’t had breakfast yet.

The $370 man: No, Betty, not today. In general.

Me: Oh, didn’t The $195 man write you a letter?

The $370 man: Sure, sure, but in your own words.

One hour later…

The $370 man (into his Madonna Vogue microphone): And that’s why I would recommend a blah blah blah dose of Lithium.

Me (in my head, not out loud): LITHIUM? What the fuck, chuck? Isn’t that what Kurt Cobain sang about? And we all know what happened to him. Although it can’t be worse than… Oh ssh.

The $370 man: Ok. I’ll have this letter sent to The $195 man today.

Me: Well thanks. I feel better already.

How DO you like them apples?

PS. Did you know that the use of lithium salts to treat mania* was rediscovered by the Australian psychiatrist John Cade in 1949. Yes, a local. He was injecting rodents with urine extracts taken from schizophrenic patients,** in an attempt to isolate a metabolic compound which might be causing mental symptoms.*** But before that, it was the medicinal ingredient of a refreshment beverage, 7 Up.

*I don’t REALLY have mania
** I am NOT schizophrenic
*** I MAY have mental symptoms. Of sorts.

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