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Creative Writing: My Therapist

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The blinding rays of Los Angeles sunlight jolted me from my comfy bed in my apartment outside of the UCLA campus. My eyes were still heavy with sleep and my usually coiled brown hair was in a fuzzy static mess. Out of the blue, my smart phone made an irritating buzzing sound on my bedside table. I turned my torso to the table and picked up my vibrating phone, while groaning and rubbing my eyes, to read who the caller was. “Dr. Flournoy…? Oh, it’s my therapist!” I mumbled to myself. I looked at the time on my phone. “Jeez, she’s calling at 5:00 in the morning? It must be really urgent.” I picked up the still ringing phone, curious about why she was calling me. “Uh, good morning… Dr. Flournoy.” I said with scarcely any vigor. “Good morning Alyssa! Sorry for waking you up so early. I wanted to let you know that I won’t be available this morning because of a, umm, emergency. Do you think you can come down to the office around 5:30 tonight? That’s the only other time I have today for a session.” “Sure,” I said to my therapist. “Let me check my calendar real quick.” I tapped the calendar app on my phone and rummaged through all the dates. I thought to myself how strange it was for her to call super early: she’s never called this early for the 3 years I’ve known her. “Let’s see…, I’m free at that time. I’ll try to get…show more content…
Most of the time I eat buttered toast with strawberry jelly and a big glass of orange juice. When I have time off though, I love devouring a stack of their scrumptious buttermilk pancakes. Once I drove into the parking area of the sophisticated diminutive diner, I noticed there were only three parking spaces and almost all of their tables were taken. I felt a twinge in my chest. My heart thumped against my chest. I look at my hands- they’re clammy and sweaty. “Oh god I’m having a panic attack.” I thought. “There are too many people. I-I gotta leave
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