I do not have a psychological problem, I have a psychologist problem. It really is not that its fair to say that I have a psychologist, would be more correct to write that he has me as a patient. In the sense that he is calling me to make an appointment, it does so for years, not regularly but occasionally it takes to be felt. Yesterday I called and said: "I have a crisis, I need my patient, you can go from here?". Poor fellow, he is not at all well, in my opinion has of a drug problem in the sense that not getting enough. I tried to encourage it a bit ': "You're playing with fire - I told him one day - Once in the tunnel of sobriety is difficult to get out. You risk death, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but you'll see that a maximum of 50 years will end up definitely in the grave. "He denies:" It's not so bad, I have the situation under control, I start when I want ", the usual history. Anyway, I went to see him. As soon as I makes me sit back and hands me a sheet of paper with a spot of inchistro. "What do you see?", he asks anxiously, "A sheet of paper with an ink stain "I say." Okay, but what do you think this ink stain? ", approached me several inches and are looking forward to my reply:" I think this ink stain is a Rorschach test, "I do.
" Thanks, thanks, thanks, I'm 30 years I do this question every day and no one has ever given me the correct answer, now I feel better, "" Do not mention it - I say - are 70 euro.
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