I'm in love. I'm completely infatuated with the HBO series "In Treatment." (We don't have HBO; I'm watching DVDs from Netflix. But I might be calling our cable company.) Here's the premise: psychotherapist Paul Weston sees clients. That's it. One client (or couple) per episode. All the action takes place in Paul's office. Actually, there is very little action. And it's absolutely riveting. Every fifth episode or so, Paul is actually the client in a session with his supervisor, sessions in which he is every bit as petulant and resistant as his own clients are with him. I'm in love with this show.
I'm also insanely jealous. In every episode, the session ends on time. In fact, it is almost always the patient, not the therapist, who says, "Our time is up." At least so far, no matter what kind of drama is unfolding, no matter how upset the client is, Paul walks him/her to the door and says, "See you next week." In real life, at least in my real life, that's wishful thinking. Maybe I have some boundary issues. Yep. Probably.)