starting over with the end in sight

after leaving the shrink in question,
s/he pondered while walking down the street
outside her/his office,
wondering just what the next one would look like,
wondering just how long it would take
before s/he’d be rid of the next one &
why did it always go this way to begin with?
just how fucked up was s/he really,
or was it a case of always needing someone to rant
with,
to cry with,
to whine with &
to pay for advice---
s/he’d heard that others actually “got better” &
would end up leaving their shrinks on
good terms,
but alas, this was not the routine for
him/her &
so, when s/he got home, s/he began the search again,
going online to read up on those
whom s/he hadn’t used up yet,
knowing that before too long s/he’d have a new
appointment,
so that s/he could waltz in,
sit down in whatever pseudo-comfortable furniture
this one had &
begin the recap all over again.