After dragging myself out of the “dark place,” I had a wonderful conversation with my mom that went something like this:

Me: Well, if I move up there and take that job, I’ll still have to pay rent here for at least 60 days. I can use this as kind of a “weekend house.”

Mom: No, you’ll have the utilities turned off and you won’t need to go there.

Me: (sobbing) OK then. I’m uh, going to go get something to eat. I’ll *sniff* call you later.

This is my life, folks. I immediately turn into a snivelling eleven year old whenever my family confronts me on anything. Is this a life worth living?!?