Work in Progress

As Abby settles into a routine with a new roommate, she embarks on a fraught quest to find a new therapist – ideally, one she doesn’t hate. All out of almonds and hanging on by a thread, Abby blusters her way through a shrinking list while doing her best just to make it to tomorrow. Season premiere.

When a crisis in Abby’s apartment threatens her most prized possessions, a cascade of buried memories takes her back to where her mental health journey began. Abby reflects on the rollercoaster of her childhood, looking back to see if she can finally find a way to move forward.

Abby and her new roommate Campbell provide moral support for each other as they power through a full day of supposedly-fun-but-ultimately-stressful family gatherings. The only way out is through and the only thing keeping them going is the shimmering promise of Two Queens on Two Queens. They deserve it.

Haunted by her “crime against the entire queer community,” Abby sets out on a pilgrimage of healing that definitely might work. Overwhelmed by guilt and shame? Don’t worry, there’s a crystal for that. Temporarily armed with her new age attitude, Abby ventures out of her comfort zone and makes a bold decision.

A catastrophe at work gives Abby a chance to rise to the occasion in front of her visiting nephew, Matty. Later, the two of them share a rare moment of peace and calm before sleep. It’s been a rough couple of months, but life is finally starting to return to normal...right?

Abby and Campbell attempt to live their best lockdown lives despite the constant stream of bad news that somehow keeps getting worse. The growing calendar of canceled events causes Abby and Campbell to mourn the loss of queer community and reminisce about the messy (and germy!) days of yore. Life is predictably unpredictable.

All Abby and her family can do now is wait at her father’s house. As they all turn to the important task of ordering delivery, watching massive amounts of TV, and avoiding the giant looming question mark hovering above everything, Abby’s reality starts to blur. It’s a matter of life and death again, but this time it isn’t her neck on the line.

With the world on fire, Abby is forced to reckon with the history of racism, police violence and grief and her complicity in it. Tasked with writing her company’s “Black Lives Matter solidarity statement,” an exhausted Abby drifts in and out of the kind of nightmares that don’t necessarily stop when you wake up. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.

Masking up to brave the outside world, Abby wills herself to overcome her fear of germs and the unknown to visit Edward in the hospital. Father and daughter reflect on their fraught relationship, acknowledge newfound similarities, all while searching for a bit of hope, humor, and, eventually, healing. It’s called therapy, ever heard of it?