THERAPY LOG

PATIENT: STEPHEN PINKERTON

PATIENT HISTORY:

• Arrested on 06 December 3034 for domestic violence, sentenced to one month in minimum-security prison and court-mandated therapy for three years
• Total of twelve parking tickets and five speeding tickets since patient turned eighteen
• Multiple reports of unfair treatment from workplace subordinates, no action taken

DATE OF FIRST APPOINTMENT: 14 MAY 2035

12 JUNE 2035

Stephen came in for his first appointment since he first started seeing me. He was supposed to come every week, but evidently he hasn’t thought it important enough to keep that appointment.

When he first entered my office, he seemed stressed and frazzled. Initially, I thought his nasty behavior had finally caught up with him and he was experiencing remorse. But alas, I was wrong. He cut straight to the chase, ranting about the “bullshit” complaints that had been filed by his employees regarding his poor leadership and employee abuse. He fretted that his supervisor would see them, and informed me that he would soon be shredding the complaint reports to ensure that wouldn’t happen.

10 JULY 2035

Stephen attended his appointment this week, to my surprise. When he sat down I noticed that he reeked of beer, despite our appointment taking place at 10:00 AM. I asked him how he was feeling and he told me to “fuck off” and prescribe him some pills. When I told him that since I was not a psychiatrist, I could not prescribe medication, he kicked over the floor lamp next to him and stormed out.

17 JULY 2035

I am quite pleased with today’s session: I think we had a breakthrough.

Stephen was talking about the past five years, and upon my prompting him to discuss what progress he believes he has made, Stephen broke down crying. He moaned about how much he missed his girlfriend, how “damn hot” she was, and how she never should have made him angry enough to hit her. I asked him if he would treat any future partners with increased respect, and he said “I think so.”

31 JULY 2035

Stephen discussed his progress at work today. He seemed pleased that he managed to fire the “probably gay” intern he always despised.

21 AUGUST 2035

I asked Stephen what he’d been up to since we saw each other last. He told me he’d met a brunette named Jessica at the movie theater. “She’s from South Carolina,” he said. He rambled about how beautiful she is and how much she makes him laugh.

Perhaps Stephen is changing after all. I advised him to take things slowly with Jessica, and he agreed.

Stephen also talked about the new developments in his workplace. He expressed his boredom regarding the stacks of paperwork he had to sift through, and confessed that he usually pushed the responsibility onto an inexperienced intern. When I asked him if he would be happier in a different workplace or occupation, he scoffed and said “I gotta make bank somehow, doctor.”

23 AUGUST 2035

Stephen did not come in today, but I saw him at his workplace. I was in the same building that he was, since on weekday evenings, I work a second job as a janitor (not that I have to explain myself to a therapy log, but a doctorate is very expensive. Being a therapist doesn’t quite pay the bills). I saw Stephen flirting with a young blonde woman. I hope Jessica doesn’t mind.

28 AUGUST 2035

Stephen seemed rather scatterbrained today. He flitted from hot gossip to workplace stresses to how awesome the sex he had last night was. I nodded along, forcing myself to appear like I was paying attention. He mentioned a new virtual reality space simulator that he wanted to try out. I bobbed my head absently.

With therapy, there is always a goal in mind. There is some problem that people want to discuss, fix, or at least lessen the pain of. With Stephen, I am at a loss. He is here because he has to be. He will never change his ways. He will never stop viewing everyone as inferior to himself. He will never stop being the center of his own pathetic universe.

04 SEPTEMBER 2035

I gently talked Stephen through the concept that women are not inherently inferior to men. He did not seem to understand.

17 SEPTEMBER 2035

At work today (janitor, not therapist), a man with an ugly haircut and an absurdly expensive-looking suit brushed past me while I was cleaning an air duct, causing me to lose my balance and fall. He just chuckled. Boy, do I hate wealthy assholes.

18 SEPTEMBER 2035

Stephen did not come to therapy today. I spent what would have been his hour-long session imagining how satisfying it would be to punch him in his oily face.

16 OCTOBER 2035

Stephen plunked down for the first time in a month without so much as greeting me and began rambling about the hot new intern in his office. I have never before met someone with such little regard for other people. I don’t believe I can handle another two years of Stephen.

He briefly deviated from discussing the new intern’s breasts to inform me that he had spent $50,000 on a ticket to some VR space simulator, scheduled for February 6th. Boy, do I hate wealthy assholes.

01 DECEMBER 2035

Stephen called my co-worker and fellow janitor a tubby piece of shit while he was emptying trash bins today.

04 DECEMBER 2035

Stephen announced that he was engaged to marry Jessica. He spent nearly an hour detailing his plans for the wedding and honeymoon, and how if they didn’t spend at least three million on the wedding it’d be “whorish and cheap.” Since I couldn’t cut him off and change the subject, I imagined hypothetical scenarios of me strangling Stephen.

11 DECEMBER 2035

Stephen told me he bribed our governor and some state senators to get a bill passed that would cut food stamps and welfare programs. I wonder how easy it is to stab a person’s jugular, and how long it would take for them to die.

08 JANUARY 2036

While Stephen told me about the women he’d cheated on his fiancée with, I made a list in my “therapist notebook” of the least suspicious ways to kill someone.

17 JANUARY 2036

I have decided to kill Stephen. And I know how I’m going to do it.

31 JANUARY 2036

Since I have access to his medical records, I know that Stephen has a deathly allergy to chocolate-- more specifically, cocoa. Apparently he came within five feet of a bar of milk chocolate once and was hospitalized for two weeks. Luckily for him, Stephen is rich and paranoid enough that he rarely has to worry about coming in contact with any deadly chocolate. The only people he really trusts, it seems, are his fiancée… and his therapist.

So if someone were to, say, coat the pen that patients use to sign in and out of the building with a thin layer of cocoa powder, Stephen Pinkerton would be long gone. And who’s to blame? Some poor guy eating a chocolate bar who forgot to wipe his hands?

07 FEBRUARY 2036

I have it all planned out for next week. It’ll be even less suspicious because it’s Valentine’s Day. Stephen will sign in, have his session, leave, and use the bathroom-- as he always does. While Stephen’s in the bathroom, I’ll sprint downstairs and cover the pen in chocolate while pretending to check the patient records. I’ll sneak back upstairs via the emergency stairwell, Stephen will come down and sign out, and, well-- the rest is fairly obvious.

Stephen talked about the VR space simulator he went on yesterday. Apparently it was a really “transformative” experience (bullshit). He went on and on about how once he saw the world from the outside, it shocked him to his core and his entire perspective changed. For some reason he’s lying to himself, telling me that he now knows his time on this Earth is limited or whatever. He’s going to “make the most” of his life. What an asshole.

13 FEBRUARY 2036

I saw the weirdest thing today when I was mopping the floors. Stephen, holding a cardboard box, walked up to an intern, greeted her by name, and said he appreciated the hard work she’d put in. He didn’t even try to slap her ass!

And what’s even weirder: he walked up to me! He must not have recognized me in my dull blue uniform and unkempt hair, but he told me he appreciated my services and that in the end, “we’re all equal on this little planet.” I wonder what he wants. Asshole.

14 FEBRUARY 2036

Today’s the day.

Stephen came in today dressed in a t-shirt and jeans instead of his usual $6,000 suit. He told me with an uncharacteristically gentle smile that he had quit his job yesterday and wanted to start learning about astronomy. He claimed he was going to start being faithful to Jessica, because “after all, an asteroid could hit us at any second now, couldn’t it?” He apparently wanted to spend his remaining time loving one woman, rather than flirting with many. Or something like that.

I don’t know what’s gotten into him. I know Stephen isn’t the type of man who changes. He just isn’t. He isn’t.

When his session ended, he got up and said, “thanks, doc. I mean it.” I just sat there, baffled. What the hell does that mean?

I hear the ambulance sirens. I wonder if he’s really going to die.

PATIENT: JESSICA PINKERTON

PATIENT HISTORY:

• Husband died on February 14, 2036 of anaphylactic shock

DATE OF FIRST APPOINTMENT: 28 FEBRUARY 2036

28 FEBRUARY 2036

I don’t know if I can do this.