I have mixed feelings about it. The building façade is under construction as they prepare for a French restaurant to open next month-ish. The elevators are tiny and weird. The bathroom is locked. She said there’s normally a key in the waiting room, but it’s missing so I could use hers until then. Nope – that’s totally weird to me, so I nearly peed my pants during session.
The waiting room itself is startlingly bright – stark white walls bouncing fluorescent light all over my sensitive eyeballs. Classic huge “oriental” rug in the center. Pretentious magazines on cheap furniture and sub-pretentious artwork in cheaper frames. One of those water fountains with plastic spigots, but no cups (shall I drink from my hand?!). Endless doors all over the place (including a semi-secret hallway that leads to more doors) all with those circular white noise machines churning out endless “shhhhhhhhhhh” sounds. Presumably all with various psychotherapeutic dyads rattling away behind them. It’s very….sterile. And a sensory nightmare.