Chapter 146

• Diagnosis
• I can feel myself sweating a little as I maneuver my blood red Porsche Caymen S into the parking garage. I am nervous as hell - who would've thought Ms. Perfect would need to see a damn shrink? I mean, it's not like I'm crazy or - okay so maybe I have a couple of issues. I'm a workaholic, I'm disgustingly vain, and I may have a slight addiction to the idea of fantastic sex. So what?
• Sighing, I leave my beautiful car, blowing it air kisses as I strut away. That's my one and only, my baby. Yeah, about that crazy part again.. um.. don't listen to the whole car thing and think, "Well.. duh!" because, well, there's more to it.