Condition? If you mean the air conditioner, I can turn it off if you like. Or are you wondering if there are any conditions to us meeting today, let me assure you that there are none.
Oh. my condition? You're asking me what my condition is? What condition my condition is in? I'll have you know I am in perfect condition, if you must know. Now, for full disclosure, I am on medication. But when I get my meds every ninety days, I make absolutely sure to take them all at once so I don't forget to take my daily dose. Good plan, eh? Of course, I do sleep for four or five days straight afterwards, but then I'm just fine. Just fine, I tell you. I SAID FINE! No, sorry, I'm not talking to you, it's the voices coming out of closet.
So have a seat in the comfy chair or on the couch. It will give me a chance to get down out of the top shelf of the bookcase. No, not THAT chair! That's MINE! Much better.
Now tell me, what wacko problem brings you to consult a brilliant psychoanalyst like me? Don't answer too loudly, you'll wake up my invisible friend in the corner. No answer? Then let's just start with the basics, shall we? Tell me about your mother. You know, is she a babe with big tits? Do you think she'd date a psychiatrist? Wait, she isn't one of those circus bearded ladies is she? I hate them. Clowns, too. Make a space on the couch and I'll tell you all about it.