Dr. Sad

There is a psychologist at my workplace.
He comes to speak with the residents.
They discuss feelings of loss, adjustment to change & whatnot.

He is very sad.

He is also kind of frumpy & a bit dumpy.
He sports a Walmart shirt & knock off Hagar pants on his chubby frame.
Oversized glasses slide down his pudgy nose.
He resembles a fat, sad old dog at the pound who just knows that no one is ever going to adopt him.

This psychologist took the place of another.
She was a real “It” girl: a hot poly-Asian babe who dressed smartly to say the least.
She always looked as if she had raided a super model’s closet & ordered her accessories directly from Vogue magazine.

Everyone loved her – Dr. T.

She opened a private practice & has no time for the institutionalized elderly.
She specializes in sex therapy.
She & her new clients discuss loss of libido & adjustment to same.

Everyone misses Dr. T.

I don’t think anyone knows the sad psychologist’s name.

We just call him Dr. Sad.

Sometimes he dozes off while doing paper work.
Sometimes his clients doze off in the middle of a sentence.

He moves as though he has lost everything important to him, but still has to trudge through the rest of his days.
As do his clients.

He is non-descript, easy to overlook & ignore.
As are his clients.

Maybe they are meant for each other.