The Shrink is OUT

So, this is a new one: I think I may have been dumped by my shrink. The Miami one--not the L.A. one. I've paged him twice in the last coupla weeks to get an appt. He hasn't returned either one of my calls. Highly unlikely for him; he usually won't hesitate to call at 9 p.m.

I'm half wondering if everything is okay with his family--we have mutual friends--and half wondering if I've finally reached the level of psychosis where my psychiatrist won't even touch me. I bet not even Woody Allen has accomplished that feat.

Since shrinkey is a Facebook friend, I'm thisclose to messaging him via FB. But if he didn't think I was crazy before, that would most certainly push things over the edge.

Seriously though, there's something a little off here. And I need drugs, stat. What the fuck.