Jill: Yeah, well this is only about ten percent of my problems. The other 90 percent... I'm married, too. You see, my husband, he's going through this sort of midlife crisis thing, you know, "Who am I? Where am I? Should I grow a beard? Should I buy a hunting lodge?" And then... And then... And then today, Brad spilled a soda on my paper, Mark's asking for skulls, and before I knew it, I was asking my husband to start construction on an office.
Dr. Breen: What's- What's wrong with your husband building you an office?
Jill: I'm married to Tim Taylor.
Dr. Breen: Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor?
Jill: Yeah, and maybe you'd better switch to a tape recorder here.
Dr. Breen: I hope I have enough batteries.

Jill: I don't really have that much to talk about.
Dr. Breen: Oh, that's OK. Why don't you just tell me a little about yourself.
Jill: Oh, oh, OK. Um... [clears throat] Well, I just hit 40, and I'm trying to jumpstart a new career, and I don't know which I'll get first, my diploma or menopause. [nervous chuckle] On top of that, I have three sons, each of whom is the center of his own universe. Brad has started driving, which is keeping me up worrying half the night, Randy has started questioning everything his father and I stand for, and Mark - he's the youngest one - wears only black and is possibly worshiping the devil.
Dr. Breen: Well, Jill...
Jill: No, no, there's more, there's more. You see, I am completely overwhelmed. My father died about six months ago, and I've been trying to help my mother long distance which is not working at all. And I'm running a house, going to school and leading my own counseling groups. I'm having some people over for dinner tonight and I have no idea what I'm going to make them. She likes fish, he likes chicken. Not that it matters because when I cook, you know, it all tastes the same.

Tim: Hi, Wilson.
Wilson: Well, hi-ho, neighbor. So, how's Jill's office coming?
Tim: Come and gone. She backed out right after she saw her shrink.
Wilson: Whoa. So you were destroyed by Freud.
Tim: I guess you could say that. Yeah.
Wilson: Hung by Jung.
Tim: Yeah.
Wilson: Brought to a halt by Gestalt.