Brain and self, let's have a meeting
Brain, I did not lose my job. In fact, there is substantial reason to believe, I won't any time in the next quarter. Maybe even two. I'm not moving to San Francisco. Just stop. If I still want to apply to some jobs there, that's fine, but I'm not going anywhere for less than a 20k raise. Yes, really. I read today that the SF Chronicle is most likely folding altogether. Not a good sign for me, Ms. Print Media.
Self, Fuck you. I never said anything about going to another newspaper. I'm drowing. I'm in a rut! I'm going nowhere! I'm slacking off! I'm dating boring assholes and mediocre dating is exhausting! I'm learning nothing! I'm drinking to excess every weekend! I'm fucking broke! I've bricked myself into this hole and there's no way out! Half my stuff is still packed in luggage. Let's do this.
Brain. That's not a rut. We call that "February." When I continue to do it, albeit a little bit less, but still enough to annoy myself, we call that "March." See exhibits 1999 - 2008. Namely, 2005...woo. That was a good one.
PS, Brain: I'm getting sick. Vegas was rough, even if it was technically 5 days "off." Feeling crappy because I didn't get to the gym after work is pointless, since....I feel crappy. Track isn't going to run itself, eh? What'd I plan to do, stand there and sway?
Self, exactly! FIVE days! It felt like I was breathing water running yesterday! Can you imagine the hell it'll be to get back at it if I let it slide even more?
Brain, seriously. Get your head out of your ass. How 'bout this: you handle the day-to-day math and bodily functions, I'll handle life, and we'll meet back up around mid-May for Carrie's graduation. Now shut up and go to bed. Good lord.
Self, yeah. 'Cause governing your life without thinking is an excellent plan...
Brain, we're done here. Don't make me NyQuil your ass.