“Ya know Doc, like a Kafkaesque nightmare…”

The sad unsmiling silent psychiatrist shook his shaggy head no.

“Kafka?”

“Yes, Kafka, you do know who Kafka is, don’t you, Doc?”

“No. I’m afraid I don’t.”

And so it was I fired my therapist. Did you ever notice that the word therapist contains the two words, “the rapist?” That should have given me ample warning right there. Later, as I was explaining the situation to my mistress and I came to the part: “Ya know, Doc, just like something out of a Kafkaesque nightmare…”

Who’s Kafka?”

“You don’t know who Kafka is either?”

And so it was I fired my mistress too. It was just about that time I began to notice how closely my life paralleled that of hapless, arthropodic, Gregor Samsa.