What Looks Like Crazy by Charlotte Hughes

ready to find it. It was not likely to knock on my front door, turn off my television, and drag me from the sofa.
    I got so excited at the prospect of the new and adventuresome life that lay ahead that I started jogging. I hadn’t jogged since college. I made it two blocks before I got a stitch in my side and became dizzy, but I ignored it. By the time I reached my front door, I was nauseous. Maybe I was overdoing it. Maybe I should ease slowly into my new life instead of jumping in with both feet and swimming toward it madly.
    I unlocked my door, crossed the living room, and fell in a heap on my sofa. I reached for the remote control and turned to The Movie Channel because I could usually count on films to have happy endings.
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    On Friday, I saw one of my patients out and returned to my desk to work on my progress chart. I had made a list of short-and long-term goals. I was going to start taking better care of myself. I was going to stop eating frozen dinners and takeout, and I was going to start preparing healthy meals so that I didn’t clog my arteries with gunk. Next to my list of goals was my grocery list, all fresh vegetables. I would need to buy a vegetable steamer. I added it to my list. Maybe I’d become a vegetarian or a vegan. I’d go to dinner with friends and they would applaud my disciplined lifestyle when I turned up my nose at red meat.
    I tried to imagine a life without steaks or burgers. What would I eat fries with?
    I asked myself whether I was using my lists and charts as avoidance behavior so that I didn’t have to think about seeing Jay. I began making a list of what signs to look for in avoidance behavior.
    â€œKate?”
    I looked up and found Mona standing in the doorway. I hoped I wasn’t going to have to hear about Liam, because I’d already learned more about him than I wanted to know. “I’m sort of busy,” I said.
    Mona stepped inside and closed the door. “Alice Smithers is outside,” she said quietly. “She asked if you could possibly work her in this afternoon. She doesn’t look so good, and her outfit is all wrong.”
    I gave an inward sigh. I knew I had no choice but to see Alice. My next patient wasn’t due in for half an hour.
    That’s the problem with being a psychologist. People are always expecting you to help them solve their problems, even when your own life has fallen into the toilet.
    â€œOkay, send her in,” I said. I gathered up my lists and charts and stuffed them into my center drawer. I stood and greeted Alice. Behind her, Mona was making faces and pointing to Alice’s clunky shoes. Indeed, they wouldn’t have been my first choice. “Please sit down, Alice,” I said as Mona closed the door.
    Alice sat on the sofa. “I’m so sorry to just barge in on you like this, Dr. Holly, but my situation is desperate.”
    I took the chair beside her. “What has happened since I last saw you?”
    â€œI’ve made a grave error. I was so worried about finding another job and trying to pay my bills on time that I decided to get a roommate.”
    â€œThat was quick,” I said.
    â€œHer name is Liz Jones. She’s a cocktail waitress. Last night was her first night, and she invited her boyfriend over. His name is Roy. I could tell he was a big loser the minute I laid eyes on him. They drank and played music all night. I don’t think I got more than ten minutes’ sleep. Not only that, they trashed my kitchen and raided my refrigerator.”
    â€œDid you say anything to her?”
    â€œOh, no, I couldn’t possibly.”
    â€œI see.” Stupid me. I’d forgotten Alice preferred vats of boiling oil to confrontation.
    â€œBesides, they were still in bed when I left.”
    â€œDid you ask Liz for references before you agreed to let her move in?”
    Alice looked down at her feet. Her face was red, and I could tell she was embarrassed, but I