Sitting in front of a screen, fighting codeine-generated nausea and an increasingly bleak mood, listening to Steely Dan warble about crossing one's old man back in Oregon, pleading with an unseen authority figure, "don't take me alive" ...
... is not necessarily a shining example of emotional hygiene.
Perhaps it's time to go to bed.
Yes, I know it's only 7:50 p.m.
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