Succession Power Rankings - Safe Room

Previous Power Rankings:

Hunting

The Vaulter 

This week on Succession, Logan takes a meeting, Connor gives a eulogy, Roman does some work, and Greg gets a promotion. And now ... the Power Rankings: 

1. Logan Roy (last week: 1): When Logan Roy says something will happen, that thing happens, and in this case, the wheels are in motion for the PGM acquisition. Otherwise, it is steady as she goes on the good ship Fuck Off. Shiv has been brought into the fold, Roman is off at management training and Kendall is diligently apportioning out the old man’s meds. Sure, an ATN employee killed himself at his desk and Logan had to install a (tasteful) anti-suicide barrier on the roof of Waystar HQ so his number one boy does not take a header off the building, but now that Shakespeare Frank has greased the wheels with Rhea Jarrell, Logan’s long-held dream of screwing over his brother Ewan by buying the media conglomerate he gets his news from is that much closer to reality. 

2. Rhea Jarrell (last week: not ranked): What price can you put on fronting a news organization with a carefully cultivated reputation for objectivity that has exercised editorial independence for 150 years? Apparently, $24 billion, give or take. You see the synergies, you can almost taste the payout, but you are a mere conduit for the interests of your Pierce family overlords, so you will take Logan’s eight-figure offer to them, along with your honest assessment of whether he can be trusted (yeah, right). 

3. (tie) Shiv Roy and Kendall Roy (last week: 6 and 2, respectively): Safe Room highlighted a point I made a few weeks ago - when the Roy kids are working together instead of trying to step on each other, they make a formidable team. Rhea confirms Kendall’s initial assessment of a potential merger (a “plug and play” connection that offers cost-cutting opportunities) but needs Shiv, and her more liberal politics, in the room to open the door for serious negotiations. Shiv also recommends firing neo-Nazi hairdo Mark Ravenhead well before Rhea suggests the same thing as a peace offering toward the Pierces. 

But it was the final scene of the episode that really shook me. A show that rarely allows its characters to be vulnerable with each other did so in an agonizing way. Kendall is broken and consumed with guilt and he finally lets that out, if only for a moment, when he and his sister embrace. Instead of pulling away, she softens, and, for a moment at least, the scheming is set aside because this is her brother, exposing himself in a human way. 

5. Cousin Greg (last week: 7): Say what you will about Greg, but when the time came to level up from executive assistant to executive, he played his hand beautifully. Blackmailing Tom for a seat at the grown up table was nicely done, but going from a combination of Tom’s coffee boy and Kendall’s drug hook-up to a corner office is going to be a bumpy ride. 

6. Gerri Killman (last week: 3): A good general counsel wears many hats. She must understand the intricacies of her company’s 10-K statement, the finer points of a potential acquisition’s pension plan, and be vigilant for an out of the blue crisis like a satellite blowing up on the launch pad. It is understandable that after a long day at the office, Gerri likes to unwind with a nice martini and some hard core phone fetish play with her boss’s son. 

7. Roman Roy (last week: 8): Sometimes, to get ahead you have to take a step back. In Roman’s case, it means walking around a Waystar amusement park as the World’s Biggest Turkey and having his lines from the welcome video omitted. Suffering through lame team building exercises and stale pastries is a small price to pay if it means making his way back into Logan’s good graces. Of course, the only thing more predictable than his laissez faire attitude toward management training was the reveal that he is a submissive who gets off on being told what a bad boy he is by a powerful older woman. Gobble-dee-go-fuck-yourself! 

8. Willa (last week: not ranked): Being sent as an emissary to the funeral of a long-tenured Waystar Royco executive is a tacit acknowledgement that Willa is slowly being woven into the Roy family tapestry. This is the kind of skill one needs to hone if one is going to be the First Lady of our nation; however, Willa’s true contribution, landing her first ever spot on the power rankings, was her anodyne, on-the-fly eulogy of Moe(Lester) for Connor, saving him from any embarrassment once Michelle Pantsil’s biography of Logan is published, complete with whatever dirty details the now dead Uncle Meathands shared. 

9. Brian (last week: not ranked): Life at Waystar Royco is a funny thing. One day you’re slumming it at the Fort Myers resort being held back by supervisors who do not appreciate your unique blend of intellectual promiscuity and cultural conservatism, the next day you’re hobnobbing with “Ron Rockstone” spitballing knock-off Saving Private Ryan VR experiences on the fast track to corporate HQ in New York City. 

10. Tom Wamgsgans (last week: 10): Going from the cruise line division, with its unreported sexual assaults and hush money payments, to ATN, with its possibly neo-Nazi anchors (but he does skew young!) and Antifa protestors, has a bit of the frying pan into the fire vibe to it. Nothing like having to ask your star news anchor if he's ever been a member of the American Nazi Party or double check his math on the body count from World War II to drive home the point that Tom is in-over-his-head. Jonah may be a human foot stool for him to humiliate, but when the shit hits the fan, Tom is relegated to the kid's table safe room, getting dunked on by Cousin Greg, who is looking to escape from Tom’s insecurity gravity field. On the plus side, a job has opened up in the “latte me” department. 

Not Ranked: Marcia Roy; Connor "interested in politics from a very young age" Roy; Tabitha; Frank; Jamie; Karolina; Michelle Pastil; Mark Ravenhead; The Wolfpack; Maria, Lester's Sad Widow; Jonah, the Human Foot Stool; Jess; Stewie; Sandy Furness; Sno-Jo; Paula Conroy, the overly excited Waystar Royco management training coordinator; Coriolanus; Brian's nephews Cooper and Clark; Frank's library card; the candy and vape fluid Kendall stole.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 29

I have some sort of mystery ailment. Pain in my right "flank" that was originally diagnosed as potentially kidney stones (I have had them before) but a CT was negative. I went back to my doctor today and he now thinks it's some sort of strain in my rib cage. As he said, the easy diagnoses are the serious ones, the ones with mild symptoms (and I am not in a lot of pain, usually a "1" or "2") are the hardest to ferret out. Me, my attitude is so long as it's not a tumor, I will just deal with it. We shall see.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 28

It is amazing what a single day off can do. Yesterday, I did all the things (as the kids say). I washed sheets, I got a passport photo, I took suits and dress shirts to the dry cleaners, I stopped at the library, all before noon, then spent the afternoon lounging on the couch. It was lovely. 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 27

I had every intention of having a productive day in the office yesterday but I will not lie, fair reader, I did next to nothing. The reason? I am off until Labor Day. And my best intentions aside, I was just not feeling it yesterday. Entitlement? Maybe. I work hard and I decided to fuck off on the day before a slightly truncated week's vacation. I didn't beat myself up over it and now I am free until a week from today.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Succession Power Rankings - Hunting

In this week’s episode, Roman takes a call, Shiv and Willa go out for a drink, Connor has some thoughts on the U.S. tax code, and Logan has an unorthodox way of boosting team morale. And now ... the Power Rankings: 

1. Logan Roy (last week: 3): Why bother peeing on a tree to mark your territory when you can force one of your top executives, your son-in-law, and your nephew to crawl around on the floor making oink noises while they scramble to grab a withered, phallic-shaped meat product. When you're an 80-year-old man who can cash in his chips to the tune of $10 billion and choose not to, it is obvious why - what meaning does your life have if you cannot belittle everyone in your presence and toy with their emotions on a whim?

2. Kendall Roy (last week: 1): It is easy to forget that when Succession started, Kendall was on the cusp of assuming his father's job as CEO. Indeed, the palace revolt was spurred, at least in part, because Logan decided not to retire. Although the show is a bit murky on the backstory, it seems all of the hoops Logan is now throwing in front of Shiv (the various apprenticeships and tours of duty in far-flung locations), Kendall has already been through. He may be drug-dependent, but Kendall is not a dummy. He understands the business world and now that he is nestled back in his father's chilly embrace, is executing Logan's directions with ruthless efficiency. The only thing stopping him from being the odds-on-favorite to take over one day is his inability to operate a stick shift on a rain-slicked road.

3. Gerri Killman (last week: not ranked): Playing both sides is always a dangerous game, yet somehow, Gerri never seems to get caught short. In Season One she was ready to kneecap Kendall when Logan fell ill only to turn around and join Kendall's coup attempt before abandoning him in the board room. When Shiv threatened to go public about the cover ups in the company's cruise line division, Gerri brokered the peace between Logan and Gil. Now, she is skeptical of the PGM acquisition but it's Karl that ends up on the floor wrestling for pig meat, not her. She also has a weird Mrs. Robinson thing going on with Roman.  

4. Jamie (last week: not ranked): If there was one thing Game of Thrones taught us, it is that the Iron Bank always gets paid. Banking is an unemotional profession of credits and debits that has the side benefit of getting you out of the more unpleasant parts of a corporate retreat when your client needs you to shake the money tree stateside.

5. Connor Roy (last week: not ranked): One of Succession's unspoken themes is the characters' sense of entitlement. Their ids make up approximately 99.8% of their psyche because there are never any consequences for their actions. Money does solve all their problems, from covering up a murder to the more pedestrian needs of renting living space for your nascent presidential run that is also in close proximity to your rent-a-girlfriend’s theater. If you want to run for President, not only is there nobody telling you "that's a bad idea," you can hire some real deal political consultants who will suction cup their bank accounts to your wallet and drain $10 million before you know it. But why worry about that when in 10 seconds your hyper-decanting system ages wine 5 years and you can go on Instagram and threaten to evade paying taxes. 

6. Shiv Roy (last week: 5): I'm bearish on Shiv for two reasons. First, are we sure she's good at her job? Last week, her attempt to stir discord between Logan and Kendall fell flat and she burned her bridge with Gil *after* wavering on her dad's three-years-and-then-you-get-the-job offer. This week, she fails at the simple task of getting Connor to put the kibosh on his bananas IG vid (even failing to appeal to Willa's grifter nature by intimating that the money given to Connor's political flunkies might jeopardize the production of her (surely, off Broadway) play) and sending Tom into the lion's den against her father was ill-advised. Second, it is hard to see her as anything other than a contingency plan for Logan. All of the seasoning she requires Kendall already has and her more liberal politics are not simpatico with her pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps father. Maybe that romp with Willa's friend cleared the cobwebs ...

7. Cousin Greg (last week: 6): How did Greg finagle his way onto that private jet and weekend in Hungary, anyway? Instead of butchering defenseless hogs, Greg would have been better served putting the same time he did in cultivating drug dealers into a tutorial on the basics of Journalism 101 (on the record, on background, on deep background, etc.) Also, amusing that he thought that a few random observations of Logan that could have been provided by basically anyone who had come into contact with the old man over the last 50 years might come back to bite him in the ass. Trust no one Greg, especially any latte sipping douchebags!

8. Roman Roy (last week: 7): It takes a certain amount of hubris to think that you can negotiate a multi-billion dollar takeover by placing a casual phone call to one of your opposite numbers in the Pierce clan who is pals with the girlfriend you never have sex with (um, what is that about?) I *almost* felt bad for Roman when his subterfuge was exposed and Logan called him a moron, but if anyone deserved a comeuppance, it was Roman. He is glib and his instincts are sometimes good, but his general dickishness, entitlement, and too-cool-for-school attitude will only take him so far. Instead of trying to fuck Gerri, he would be better served heeding her advice and getting some actual experience under his belt.

9. Chris a/k/a Shiv's Fuck Toy (last week: not ranked): You know this guy. He doesn't own "screens" and he might tell you it's because they poison your mind but you know it's because he's scraping by on a stage actor's salary and can't afford them. He's the kind of guy who knows how to stretch his weed budget by getting high off the resin in the bottom of his bong. He's handsome but aimless and catnip for bored women who want a meat puppet who will fuck them without making their already complicated lives more so. Rock on, dude.

10. Tom Wamgsgans (last week: 9): Life in the big city is dealing our Midwestern social climber a never ending series of kicks to the sausage ... err, groin. Shiv hands him an assignment to torpedo her dad's acquisition of PGM (he fails). Logan dismisses him as a (literally!) impotent man whose mouth should stay shut until a grandchild is produced (ouch). He is tossed into the humiliating "Boar on the Floor" game (and loses). Cyd casually dunks on him the following morning (oh, the humanity!) And when he comes home, teary-eyed and exhausted, the first thing his wife tells him, in so many words, is that while he was off being treated like a doormat, she fucked a random peasant. I'm not sure there are enough “skulls” at ATN to make this pain go away.

Not Ranked: Marcia Roy; the as-yet-to-be-introduced Pierce clan; Willa; Cyd "Will Eat Tom's Sausage" Peach; Karl; Frank; Eric Schulman and Bud Henry, Connor's piece of shit political consultants; Ratfucker Sam; Michelle Pastil; the waiter getting sucked off in Palermo by Frank's trophy girlfriend; the pastries served at Waystar Royco HQ; Stewie; Sandy Furness; Ray, the Red Shirt Waystar executive who was about to piss in the ice bucket.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Succession Power Rankings - The Vaulter

The Succession Power Rankings - The Vaulter Edition

1. Kendall Roy: I am not here to pretend all is well in Ken’s world. He carries so much guilt he cannot even hug his daughter after she got to meet Sno-Jo at her birthday party and the thanks he got for poring over Vaulter’s financials for 36 hours was a defenestration in front of his dad when Roman springs the news that plans are afoot for the employees there to unionize, BUT, when given his marching orders to gut the online site, he does so deftly. He hoodwinks the staff into not unionizing then harvests a bunch of ideas before bloodlessly firing them all. Kendall’s reward is a return to the “C” suite even though Logan literally takes a call from Shiv confirming she’s ready to come into the business while Kendall gets his promotion. 

2. Cyd Peach: Every four years, Logan sends Cyd a latte sipping douchebag with a $100 haircut who she devours in one bite like a freaking anaconda in a Discovery Channel documentary. The woman is a human stiletto and will make a meal out of Tom and then pick her teeth with his bones.

3. Logan Roy: The man is manipulating his children like some sort of modern day Tywin Lannister while also fighting off a proxy battle from an equally dickish competitor. Just a solid episode of growling at his underlings and doing what he does best - humiliation and telling people to fuck off, but could someone find the poor man three women for his board of directors? 

4. Tabitha: Has anyone this side of Cousin Greg had a more meteoric rise? She has parlayed a bachelor party blow job into becoming Roman Roy’s confidant. Of course, everyone is focusing on her “you should swallow something” closed-loop call-back to Tom, but her withering put down of Roman, “mazel tov, you did a thing” was what really turned my head. Unclear if she’s playing the “I’m above it all” card (which makes her more desirable) or if she just does not give a fuck, but she brings all of Willa’s eye-rolling and none of her sketchy background and I am here for all of it. 

5. Shiv Roy: I would have ranked Shiv higher but she gave up the one thing she had - leverage - by bailing on Gil. Her attempt to nudge Kendall into defying their father by saving Vaulter went nowhere and Roman does not even consider her a threat. Three years (minimum) is a long time to wait for the CEO job.  

6. Cousin Greg: A classic good news/bad news week for Greg. The good news is that he found 30 (maybe 50?) people Tom can fire at ATN and he has supplanted Jess as Kendall’s drug procurer of choice. Even better, Kendall gifts him a dope condo in Manhattan so he doesn’t have to commute in from Staten Island (which might as well be Cleveland). The bad news is that Kendall wants to use that condo as some sort of Caligula-like fuck pad cum drug den and ATN’s views on racism do not exactly align with Greg’s. 

7. Roman Roy: Quietly drafting the other competitors for dad’s attention, he gets key intel from the Vaulter staff at the low, low price of a couple of rounds of overpriced IPAs. He almost pulls off a dinner party (race relations, kale, etc.) and has a girlfriend who is way too hot (and tall!) for him. Still too reliant on Gerri and no one takes him seriously. 

8. Gil Eavis: Signs are pointing toward 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue on a private jet he has free use of on the weekend and he hasn’t lost his touch with the common man. He did, however, lose his chief political consultant who he was planning to make his Chief of Staff. Oh well, enjoy the gluten and melted cheese. 

9. Tom Wamgsgans: Tom has gone from swallowing his own load to swallowing a torrent of insults on everything from his suits to his haircut. His dream of one day running Waystar Royco evaporated in roughly the amount of time it took his wife to pour him a nightcap. His only hope is massaging his father-in-law’s g-spot by trimming back stationary use and firing some low-level staffers at ATN. Also walks around as a cuckold while fearing his wife will find out her brother’s new girlfriend sucked his dick at his bachelor party. 

10. The Vaulter Red Shirt Who Spit in Kendall’s Face: Shouts to the guy whose health benefits will be terminated at the end of the month and will only get a week’s severance for every year he worked at the now-mostly shuttered website. 

Not Ranked: Marcia Roy; Connor Roy; Willa; Stewie; Lawrence; Gerri; Sandy Furness; Jess; Nate; Stanley, the Real Estate Agent; the Vaulter bee hive; Julia, the amusement park employee who takes the Wagon Train ride up to a point; Shiv’s bottle of hand sanitizer; the Bodega guy who did not notice Kendall steal a two-pack of batteries; Logan and Marcia’s Alexa; the Facebook algorithm; the five interns now running the weed and food verticals at the stripped down version of Vaulter.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy  

August 24

Took a drive down to the Philly outlet mall. It was a bust. I don't know if it's my ever-shrinking patience with people or just lack of interest, but I didn't find anything. To take one example, 30 seconds after I walked into the Nike store, a family came in with a baby crying - loudly - I beat feet out of there, like I just cannot stand the sound of babies crying. Anyway, the weather is really nice, mid 70s during the day so windows are open and no A/C. 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

The Nats Are Making Baseball Fun Again

Around Memorial Day, I was prepared to give up on the Washington Nationals. The team was 19-31, sitting in fourth place, and appeared to be circling the drain. I was the conductor on the “Fire Davey” train and was ready for a summer without baseball. Then, a funny thing happened. The team signed a guy named Gerardo Parra, some key players came off the injured list, and before you know it, the Nats have the best record in the National League since early June. A team that looked like it had given up now has joyful clubhouse celebrations after every home run (which happen with some frequency), sit comfortably in the top position for a wild card and has an outside chance at winning the division. How did this happen?

Clubhouses are delicate ecosystems. The Nats have always had a reputation as being a bit buttoned up, a bit corporate if you will. Ryan Zimmerman has been the face of the franchise for more than a decade, but his leadership was always more by example, he is not one for rah-rah speeches or getting tossed from a game to motivate his teammates. Parra has brought a looseness the team desperately needed. The home run dance line is social media catnip, his walk up song (Baby Shark) may be hokey, but watching thousands of people do a Nats Park version of the Gator Chomp is endearing, and now, the players measure their hits in shark bites. Is it silly? Sure. But this type of playfulness was sorely needed and the team has embraced it.

Obviously, what has also helped is stellar play in the field. Anthony Rendon is an MVP candidate, Trea Turner is flashing the tools that made him one of the great trade steals of recent times, Big City continues doing Big City things, Juan Soto is putting up numbers at the tender age of 20 that were previously reserved for players with last names like Ott and Williams, and his running partner Victor Robles has slid effortlessly into center field while flashing speed and power at the plate. On the mound, Stephen Strasburg is quietly putting together a year that will garner more than a few Cy Young votes, Max Scherzer was the odds-on favorite for the award until he got injured in July, Patrick Corbin has been the dominant lefty the staff desperately needed, and Anibel Sanchez has been solid.

The team certainly has flaws. The bullpen has upgraded from dumpster fire to smoldering ash heap. Scherzer is just now coming back from several injuries and it is unknown whether he will be at 100 percent down the stretch. Zimmerman will return soon but in doing so, will take at bats away from Adams, who has been solid at first base. And of course, lingering over all of this, is the team’s snake-bitten history in the playoffs. The Nats have lost playoff games and series in one painful way after another to the point you just assume the worst even with all the talent they have.

Will this year be any different? It is hard to say. The Nats are not guaranteed to make the playoffs at all, and even if they do, assuming they do not catch the Braves for the division title, a one-game play-in as a wild card will be a new challenge for them, or perhaps a new way to break their fans’ hearts. Who knows. One thing I do know is that the team has adopted the mantra of their recently-departed right fielder (I have already forgotten his name …) who wanted to make baseball fun again.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy

Succession Recap - The Vaulter

If Logan Roy could create a Franken-Child made up of the best parts of his otherwise damaged spawn (Shiv's mercenary attitude, Roman's ability to read people, Kendall's penchant for scheming), he might have himself a person worthy of filling his shoes. Instead, he has three wannabe piranhas nipping at each other in hopes of being the last fish in the tank. This is unfortunate because if the kids took a moment to appreciate each other instead of searching for a spot on each other's back to insert a knife, they would realize each complements the others' weaknesses. If Logan was not so busy setting them up to compete in a bizarro Lord of the Flies contest, he might be in better shape to save his company.

The second episode of Succession's second season nicely proved this point. Most of the episode focused on the fictional Buzzfeed cum Mic cum Grantland online media source Vaulter. Kendall bought it at a premium in the show’s first episode, believing in it a tech Valhalla to move Waystar Royco deep into the 21^st century. But the old man was not as sanguine, and as the family tries to fight off a hostile takeover attempt, the site’s bloated budget looks ripe for a good downsizing. 

When Logan deploys his two children to kick the tires on the operation, Roman susses out Vaulter's wonky financials and worse, <gasp> plans to unionize. Instead of being papered to death by Lawrence, Roman gets this key intel at the cost of a few overpriced IPAs. While Kendall burns the midnight oil (as it turns out “weed” and “food” are the sole profitable pieces of the whole enterprise) and can’t pitch his dad on the benefits Vaulter possesses, it is Kendall's gravitas that allows him to first hoodwink the staff into ditching their plan to unionize (and cough up new ideas he could use later) and then carry out a bloodless firing of the entire staff (quite a commentary that the only profitable parts of a 480-person website could be cherrypicked and run by a 5 person crew of interns). For this, Kendall gets a promotion into Logan’s CEO suite even as Logan is on the phone (right in front of him!) confirming with Shiv that she has bailed on Gil Eavis.

Shiv’s decision is a curious one. On the one hand, she is wise to her father's ways ("two contenders, one chair, that's his favorite," she observes to Tom after his promotion to co-run ATN with human stiletto Cyd Peach) but she dumps the one thing she had – leverage – when Logan forces the issue. You want this, he seems to say, here is what you need to do. When she wavers ever so slightly on his three-years-and-change plan, he moves on to the next issue. Her reluctance is understandable. Three years is a long time and a lot can happen along the way. Kendall, admittedly a soulless automaton now carrying out his father's orders not like some sort of pussy-chasing Tech Gatsby but more like a Corporate Bro Terminator, is already well ensconced, albeit with a dirty secret that could destroy him. Roman, feckless and work-averse as he is, cultivates Gerri, the company's Swiss Army knife of a general counsel, to make up for his lack of heft. Balking at the need for seasoning when she sees one unqualified brother and another who tried to swipe the whole thing (on her wedding day no less!) is understandable, but, as the kids used to say, don’t hate the player, hate the game. 

One of the things I have come to love about Succession is its concentric circles of maneuvering. Shiv, Roman, and Kendall are all orbiting Logan’s office but The Vaulter exposed Tom’s utter, shameless, and overt ladder climbing too. The “plan,” we now know, he and Shiv concocted involved Tom becoming CEO at some point (dubious, considering his fecklessness) and props to the actor playing Tom, he gets kicked in the groin multiple times in this episode and his reactions to each are letter perfect, whether it’s bachelor party fling Tabitha telling him he might want to “swallow something” or Shiv downloading Logan’s offer to her with Tom having to feign support even as the blood is draining from his face and he sees his future as some sort of man servant (or cuckold?) is really outstanding. 

All that is left for Tom is to kick someone beneath him and that is Cousin Greg, whose stardom (at least in my twitter feed) pleases me. He is written with such a wonderful combination of naivete and earnestness yet he is subtle enough to appreciate the value of accumulating favors (and secreting away compromising blackmail material if needed at a later date). While he may have to put up with some randos boning in his bed, that seems a small price to pay for living in a massive condo with 30-foot high ceilings and sending a few clerks to the unemployment line at ATN if it helps put a few pelts on Tom’s wall for Logan to admire. 

Threaded throughout The Vaulter and the series generally are a legion of what are the rich person’s version of science-fiction red shirts. These are the servants, the chauffeurs, the door holders, the mass of millennials in the Vaulter fish bowl, and more, all of whom are disposable and interchangeable parts for obscenely wealthy people. Connor’s obsession with great battles and military leaders is telling – those historical events and figures similarly revolve around decisions made by the few affecting the many, yet the bubble of privilege that shields the Roys from ever experiencing consequences for their actions just emboldens them to keep doing bad things. 

In this way, Kendall’s soul deadened affect stands out. While Connor rents living space and a faux girlfriend, Roman walks away unscathed when a rocket blows up on the launch pad, Shiv cheats right under her husband’s nose, her husband makes plans to fire 50 people, and Greg does as he is told, none of them appear to notice or care how their behavior affects others. Kendall clearly does (though those Vaulter employees might disagree), at least as it relates to his whole I-killed-a-guy-and-it-got-covered-up-to-protect-me thing. 

Of the Roys, I find him the most interesting because he does appear to have some humanity when interacting with people outside his bubble. He isn’t reaching for the hand sanitizer when he comes into contact with the masses, he is polite to an amusement park worker when his daughter wants a ride to go faster, and even last season, when the anchor of one of ATN’s news shows is his date at a charity ball, he blanches when she tells him she basically felt forced (by her boss, who reported to him) to go, even though she had a boyfriend. If you put aside the drug addiction and the responsibility for another person’s death, you might even find Kendall’s subtle act of rebellion – pilfering a two-pack of batteries on his way out of the bodega – charming.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 20

I woke up at 3:30 this morning. Once upon a time, if I had an intense work out at the gym, as I did last night, I would be dead to the world until 6:30, maybe even 7 o'clock. Now, not so much. I wish I could pin it down to one reason, but it is a combination of things, I suppose. Part of it is just getting older and not "needing" as much sleep. Part of it is my anxiety, which is always high but has been particularly so the past few weeks. Part of it is the cats and their tendency to be ok for a few hours and then get in a little scrap that wakes me up. Part of it is my wonky bladder (another age-related problem, I suppose).

Anyway, I went to the grocery store this morning before work. It is always weird being in a place like a grocery store at an early hour. It is some combination of laborers stocking the shelves, people on the way to work (my store has a Dunkin' Donuts in it), and oddballs like me. I will be asleep before 9 tonight, hopefully I make it through until the morning ...

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 19

Today is my 9th anniversary on Twitter. Technically, I joined on August 16th, but I did not send my first tweet until August 19th. Anyway, over the ensuring years, a lot has happened in my own life and in the lives of the people I follow. Some have gotten married and had kids, others have gotten divorced (and found new love, some are still looking (like me!)). Still others have moved or changed jobs. A few have passed away. In short, this thing called life has happened, scrolling before my eyes, one tweet at a time. Since 2010, I have come to "know" a few people who I would like to tell you about because, whether they know it or not, they have made my life a better and more interesting place.

In no particular order ....

@Kelebration because every now and again, you send me a DM that makes it a little easier to make it through the day

@Kennymack1971 because I admire your no-fucks-to-give attitude (even if you are a Cowboys fan)

@Maddiesaywhat because you are a bad ass in the gym and the classroom and if I had daughters I would want them to grow up to be like you

@Sarahsolfails because you are droll and witty, fond of preppy fashion and your book was brilliant

@imcosta1 because right around the middle of the day, you scroll my timeline and favorite a bunch of my tweets

@winelibrarian because I am really happy you met @floopjack

@bosoxgaltori because you know my blog archive better than I do and you write nice messages to me on it

@deathmedieval because a daily tweet about the random deaths of people in the middle ages is sheer genius

@ ZiziFothSi because you are a fellow Jew, cat lover, and a redhead. Which is like the trifecta for me

@Jessica_Effect because you leaven your cyncicism with just the right amount of humor

@Hogspy because I have to close my office door when you do your daily retweets

@mainlinehousewife because you puncture the artifice of upper middle class suburban life

@surlyspice & @helgagrace because you two are my favorite couple on Twitter

@beakfinch because we share the dating life struggle, I live vicariously through your travel exploits, and your fur children are adorable

@heidiknits because you are a good mom who does a great job of juggling everything in your life 

@atmedogs because I think you’re “zeebs” but changed your handle and live the DC BIG LAW life with panache and good cheer

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 18

I think this is the first time in my entire life when I am like "I want summer to be over." I far prefer the warmer months over the colder ones, but this summer has been brutal - above average temperatures for the better part of 2 months combined with above average humidity that makes it feel like Miami, Florida is no chill. Granted, I spend most of my day indoors, but having to keep an eye on Weather Twitter to see if a torrential downpour is heading my way JUST AS I LEAVE WORK (it always seems to happen that way) or whether the heat index will be north of 100 is getting exhausting. We are in the grips of another run of 90 plus degree days that will not end until Thursday and I am just ready for it to be fall. 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 17

I spend a lot of time by myself, which means my faithful companion (other than my cats) is the TV. I have cycled through all of Seinfeld, dug through some of the vintage Friends seasons, seen every House episode multiple times (I still long for an alternate world where Big Love and Cutthroat Bitch end up on the second team .. alas), and will amuse myself with a classic Good Place episode in a pinch. 

My latest fixation is The Office. I watched it for a little while when it originally aired but I never quite "got" it - was it supposed to be HA HA funny or cringe-worthy funny? Sometimes it was not funny at all. Indeed, watching episodes in 2019, there are a lot of jokes and plot lines that would not cut it in today's climate. There is rampant sexual harassment, a lot of icky racial and ethnic jokes, and general lack of sensitivity that I do not think would fly. But underneath all that, there is this odd familial feeling at Dunder Mifflin. The show runs almost every day on Comedy Central. It takes about 2 weeks to get through all nine seasons. I've probably seen all or some of at least 175 episodes, maybe more. There are a few that really stand out - The Dinner Party, Business School, the mini arc of the Michael Scott Paper Company, Night Out, Cafe Disco, The Dundies, A Benihana Christmas, and Pool Party, all stand out to me. 

I really like Stanley (although the fire drill episode when he had a heart attack and the one when he asked Michael DID I STUTTER were no chill). Andy annoys the shit out of me. I feel like the show ran a season or two longer than it should have. The post Carrell seasons are uneven (at best) but they pretty much stuck the landing with the finale. Ryan was a weasel. The evolution of Pam, Dwight, and Jim's friendship was sweet. Pam and Jim set a relationship standard no humans in real life could ever meet. Dwight and Angela were oddly well paired (though I did like his little fling with Isabella). 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 16

Elvis is dead. I still remember hearing that simple declarative sentence not in 1977 when, on this day, Elvis did in fact die, but rather, sometime in the early 2000s. I was working a document production gig (the bane of every mediocre lawyer's existence), listening to whatever was the current iteration of a "Walkman" tuned to 106.7 WJFK, which played Howard in the morning and one of his knock off competitors, Don and Mike, in the afternoon. 

It was on this day that I was introduced to Don and Mike's yearly tradition of celebrating Presley's demise with a show-long tribute, which focused mostly on the King's bananas personal life. They scrounged for scratchy copies of Elvis's drugged out stage announcements, they read excerpts from the tell-alls which recounted his bizarre behavior like shooting out TV sets and having tin foil placed over his bedroom windows. How he would "preserve his seed" by not ejaculating when he fooled around with women. It was endlessly fascinating for someone like me who is very interested in the human condition.

I subsequently read David Garulnick's definitive two-volume Presley biographer and became a massive fan of Elvis's later years (basically from the 1968 comeback special on), mostly for all that hedonistic behavior (the backstory to his iconic White House visit with Richard Nixon deserves its own book). Of course, there is great tragedy in Elvis's downfall. He was a drug addict, but refused help. He had a talent few could dream of, but he squandered it. He was one of the most famous people on Earth, but often felt isolated and alone. He surrounded himself with sycophants and yes men, but had his secrets revealed when he cut them loose. 

But there is no questioning Elvis's influence on the popular culture. Even 40 plus years after his death, people still flock to Graceland, his musical vault is still being mined for new releases (another one is on its way focusing on his 1969 residency in Las Vegas), and as recently as last year, HBO ran a largely sympathetic two-part documentary about his life. Elvis may have left the building, but his legacy remains strong.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

Bernie Goes Bust

If you follow me on Twitter, you know I do not like Bernie Sanders. So it should come as no surprise that I am pleased his campaign is failing and reporters are starting to notice. I always thought the press corps overestimated his success in 2016. To be sure, some of it had to do with him, but a lot of it had to do with the fact any "left" candidate was going to draw some amount of protest vote (though the media also woefully misrepresented Hillary's positions, another story for another blog).

To my mind, Bernie would have been better off sitting out 2020 and having candidates lobby for his endorsement. It was apparent early on that a lot of big name politicians were going to run and many would have positions that were close to, if not to the left of him. The idea he would be able to maintain his support from 2016 and build out from there seemed unrealistic to me, but what do I know, I'm just some asshole blogging in his basement.

In any event, Bernie's best day was the day he announced because his polling is now in the toilet. For someone who started out as one of the front-runners for the nomination, had near universal name recognition, and a small donor base that was basically a license to raise money, the fact that he is struggling to garner just 15 percent of primary voters nationwide is telling. Most of his supporters have deserted him. In Iowa, a state where he basically fought Hillary to a draw, he is now polling at 9 percent in one poll, and 17 percent in another, and in both polls, he is at best in second place. In New Hampshire, a state he won with 60 percent of the primary vote, he is polling third. Nationally, Elizabeth Warren has passed him and he is drifting closer to the second tier.

Meanwhile, he is being outworked on the trail. He has been a lackluster candidate (one of my favorite nuggets was how he strolled around the Iowa State Fair for a half hour and did not talk to any voters) and has already been the subject of a dreaded leak about relaunching his campaign messaging. At the debates, he sounded like one of those one-hit wonder rock bands still belting out their one song years after it charted. Even the few members of Congress who endorsed him in 2016 have either abandoned him (Raul Grijalva) or are neutral (Jeff Merkley). Meanwhile, other members, like the vaunted “Squad” have not ridden to his rescue.

Much of this was predictable, but it just goes to show you Bernie's arrogance. He thought he could just run the same campaign he did in 2016 (right down to the logo, which he didn't bother updating!) and the nomination would be his. His slow slide into irrelevance will quicken once the primaries begin, at which point, I fully expect him to pull the same kamikaze routine he did in 2016, whine about a rigged process, then refuse to endorse the winner until right before the convention. And my reaction will be the same - fuck him.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 14

I was back at "WORK" (my gym's version of boot camp) tonight. I missed class two weeks ago (stupid brain) and last week (torrential downpour). The regular instructor, who is *amazing* had the week off so there was a sub. Things got off to a shaky start, but evened out after the warm up. Lots of cardio to remind me of what a fat slob I am but worked up a good sweat. Chalk up a small victory in the never ending battle against aging.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 13

The new season of Succession started Sunday. I really like this show. Although the premiere was mostly scene setting for the season to come and could have also been called Everybody Hates Kendall I like the show because it focuses on power. It started as a show that looked like it was going to be about siblings fighting over their dad's company, but even though it looked like the dad (Logan) was not long for the world (he has a stroke in the show's first episode) he came back. We do not really know how much he has left on his fastball but he does know how to play people off one another and push other people around. 

The show has few people to root for - most of the characters are both obscenely wealthy and incredibly venal - the kind of people who bid on Napoleon's desiccated penis or offer a landscaper's kid a million dollars if he hits a home run, then mercilessly ridicules him when he fails. But even though the characters are universally awful, there is something interesting about the palace intrigue of it all. The lies, the scheming, all of that is escapist, it allows us to fantasize what it might be like to tell people to fuck off and have them not be able to do anything about it. To throw out thousands of dollars of steak and lobster or tell a contractor you're going to give him one-third of what he's owed and dare him to sue you. 

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 12

I went to the cardiologist today. Relax, it was just an annual check up. I had chest pains some years ago (not something you want in your early 40s) and *that* is when the sentence "I went to the cardiologist today" was no chill. After a serious of tests, including one that required I keep a needle in my arm for hours (how I survived it, I do not know - I *hate* needles) there was no clear answer b/c my heart and the attendant valves and connectors that push all that blood into and around my body were fine.

The pains went away (perhaps stress?) but since then, I go back once a year. The same thing happens. I wait in the waiting room for an inordinate amount of time (I didn’t get into a room today until 30 minutes past my appointment time). There is always someone in a bad way (today, it was a woman with an oxygen machine humming away 5 feet from me as I tried to sink into the earth). A nurse weighs me (149 pounds, 22 BMI) and does an EKG. I try to not be awkward as she affixes the little sticky things to my hairy chest and leg. The test is taken, I never get the results. 

She leaves. I wait. The doctor comes in for a few minutes, I breathe in and out, sometimes deep full breaths, sometimes regular breathing. He asks how I'm sleeping. If there have been any changes in my diet. Checks my pulse at the ankles. Today, I also realized I have basically cut out cow-based meats - no hamburgers, no chili, no steaks, which is good. He told me to keep up the good work. The end. 

I guess it is just peace of mind at this point and the benefit of having a decent health insurance plan that allows for this at a reasonable co-pay even if I sat around waiting for more than an hour for 5 minutes of consultation.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

The Kids Are Not Alright

There is a line from the just-finished first season of HBO's remarkable teen drama Euphoria that I think about a lot. It happens in the fourth episode, when Rue, the show's protagonist and recovering drug addict is excitedly telling Ali, the-closest-thing-she-has-to-a-sponsor, about her new bestie Jules. Rue is crushing hard on Jules in the way that teens swoon - hard, deep, and total. Instead of absorbing this information neutrally or showing enthusiasm that Rue has met someone who might be good for her, Ali is dismissive. "Nothing in high school lasts forever," he observes, snuffing out Rue's happiness like a cigarette. It captured neatly so much of what I loved about this daring, but unsubtle look at teen culture in America.

Euphoria saturated itself and the TV screen in all of what makes being a teen such a minefield. It is a time in your life when you have the first taste of independence but little of the experience needed to navigate the big emotions this show marinates in. In its desire to speak big truths, Euphoria left few stones unturned. The standard teen angst of crushes and first loves, of pregnancy scares and parties, is told for the internet age, a generation born after 9/11 that is online all the time, gets hooked on drugs in mom and dad’s medicine cabinet, and vape now-legal marijuana. 

Thematically, the internet is like the atmosphere, omnipresent and defining. It informs the characters’ views on sexuality (degrading toward woman), how they interact (intimately, but at a remove), and serves as an escape valve where teens can binge watch reality TV to numb their pain or google the symptoms of bipolar disorder. Euphoria is not the first TV show to serve as a meditation on the dual-edge of our wired world - both connecting and isolating us in ways we do not fully appreciate, but its unflinching view of that phenomenon, where emotions are splayed in their raw form, is jarring. 

To be sure, the show broke new ground in a variety of ways, its casual (and extensive) level of full frontal male nudity, cheeky asides (Rue’s “dick pic” PSA), hallucinogenic cinematography, and exploration of teen drug use gave Euphoria a  unique look and feel. As I noted in a tweet, an 11th grader runs a side hustle as an online dominatrix for middle aged male pay pigs and it is not even one of the show’s three craziest story lines.  But beneath the veneer, if you can get past the ten-year-old drug dealer and the password-protected “slut shame” pages of underage teen girl nude selfies, the adults who are venal and creepy, clueless and neutered, is a love story between Rue and Jules. 

And that is where the unevenness of the show sets in. Rue’s story is at its most compelling when she is a charming hustler manipulating her square friend Lexi into giving her clean pee or bailing on a drug debt before it can be collected. Zendaya’s magnetism is never stronger than when she is sizing up her opportunities, deftly side-stepping land mines of her own creation, and consuming the world in a blur of pharmaceutical potions. Her come-to-Jesus moment with Ali puts her on a sober path, but the result is an endgame that reduces her to a single dimension - pouty buzzkill moping while her crush spirals out of control. 

As the season reached its end game, it seemed to trim its sails. The smaller plot points are rushed to a conclusion during the school’s winter ball. Nate, the star quarterback (who may also be sexually conflicted, a sadist, and a psychopath),  dodges responsibility for brutally assaulting a man who hooked up with his on-again-off-again girlfriend and for (separately) assaulting her. As the couple grinds away on the dance floor, her friends blankly observe that their mutual obsession means they are made for each other. Kat, she of the massive Tumblr fanfic following and burgeoning findom empire, revolts against it in a John Hughes moment, embracing nerdy Ethan as her match. 

The ball also frames the characters in a way that made it feel like we were watching a gal pack aging in reverse - one that began with Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda, then to Hannah, Marnie, Jessa, and Shoshanna, and now, Rue, Jules, Maddie, Cassie, Lexi, and Kat. Which is fine so far as it goes, but this level of derivativeness suggested the show was traveling in the wrong direction. When Rue and Jules decide to escape the suburbs for the big city, Rue (predictably) is left on the train platform, unable to jettison the box she lives in. My immediate thought was of the milquetoast 90s movie Mr. Holland’s Opus whose climactic scene is not that different (just with a middle aged man deciding not to leave his wife for the ingenue when they are about to depart for the big city instead of a teen drug addict bailing on her transgendered girlfriend). Zendaya does such an effective job of desexualizing Rue that her romance with Jules has a requisite level of awkwardness when there is unequal attraction; however, Rue’s feelings could have been left unrequited without any harm to the plot line.

It was a disappointing end to an eight-episode run that had some stand out moments and performances. The early part of the final episode featured a haunting voiceover of Rue’s mom reading a letter to herself of what she did not not know when Rue was born that still lingers with me. A young Nate finding out his father cheats on his mother by fucking cross dressers and transsexuals - and recording those encounters - is devastating, and the monologue Ali drops on Rue, about the emotional harm she did to her younger sister, who found Rue OD’d, and how Rue will have to live with that responsibility, is a truth bomb no 17-year-old should have to hear. 

Similarly, Maude Apatow’s Lexi shines when given the opportunity (her Bob Ross Halloween outfit and her run as wing woman for Rue’s manic police detective fugue state were standout) but she mainly serves as the can’t-meet-a-boy-overshadowed-by-her-hotter-sister-Cassie. Hunter Schafer’s Jules is astonishing, from the brutally disturbing hook up with Nate’s dad in the premiere to her weekend escape to the city where she meets Anna, Jules dangles emotions like a puppeteer, careening from moments of quiet intimacy to full on rebellion that are exhilarating and difficult to watch. 

As the girls muse on the scene unfolding in front of them at that winter ball, they wonder whether this is their last chance to dream or have no ability to do so. I could not think of a better description of being a teenager.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 9

I am turning 49 in 2 months. It is not great. I spent my 30s married to someone I did not love and have spent most of my 40s digging myself out from under the after effects - psychological, emotional, and financial - of our divorce. So much wasted time.

Someone (@oliviamesser) tweeted that her therapist told her she can start living her life whenever she wants and that is true so far as it goes but at a point, you feel like Brooks Hatlen in Shawshank Redemption - you become institutionalized. That box you've created for yourself that keeps you from pursuing the things that bring you joy or happiness starts feeling comfortable and the idea of breaking out of it becomes scary. 

I am Exhibit A for that - I have the material comfort to do things that most people either do not have the ability to do or have to borrow money to do - yet I live my life in a roughly 5 mile circle between my house, my job, my gym, and the local grocery store. There is nothing stopping me from living my best life other than my complete fear of doing so.

A POT (potential date) asked me the last time I experienced unbridled joy and I could not tell her. Like, it has been so long since I experienced that emotion, I really could not answer that question honestly. Sure, I have moments of happiness - Pumpkin greeting me first thing in the morning, Ghost curled in my arms purring away while I rub his neck - but that endorphin rush that makes being human a unique experience, I think that is gone, like, I think I am dead inside.

Which is what makes aging so depressing. It does not get better from here. *These* are the years I was supposed to be living and now I sit here thinking: “gee, another 30 years of THIS."

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 8

I was in an accident last year - right around this time - and my head is still messed up. I drive a lot more cautiously now, which is not great in New Jersey where everyone is SO aggressive. I drive less now. I stay closer to home. I put less than 800 miles a month on my car. I probably got a concussion in the accident, but the longer term damage was thinking how close I came to being more seriously injured (I basically got quasi "t" boned). In that moment, my immediate thought was for Pumpkin and Ghost and what would have happened if I had been hospitalized (or worse). Who would have taken care of them. How I would have taken care of them if I had broken an arm or leg. I know it is not healthy to dwell on stuff like that but it is hard not to.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 7

A not-so-perfectly timed downpour stopped me from going to my gym class tonight. I hate that. I mean, the chances of a storm cell blowing through the area just as I need that little window of time to make it from my office to the gym on the one day of the week I want to be there at a specific time and for a specific purpose. Ugh.

Anyway, my doctor thinks I may have kidney stones - not the kind I've had before that left me writhing in pain so bad I needed to be rushed to the emergency room - but I am having a CT scan on Tuesday to see what is going on. In the meantime, I am ready to say this episode of stupid brain has ended, I am feeling good otherwise.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarlawyerguy 

August 6

Well, my stupid brain episode has ended but what appears to be a legitimate ailment remains (pain in my right "flank" as I was told it is called by the nurse in my doctor's office). Going to see him tomorrow, hopefully, I will get an answer.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 5

Today is my grandmother's birthday. She passed away a long time ago and it affected me deeply. In my whole miserable life, she was the only person who loved me unconditionally, who thought the best of me (even when I did not deserve it), and believed in me. She was a hard woman. Tough. Resiliant. Opinionated. But for whatever reason, the slings and arrows she reserved for others never hit me. She died just after I had been hired for a very prestigious job. I remember telling her about it as she lay in a hospital bed, withering away to nothing. She lit up with pride, or at least that is what I want to believe and was gone just a few days later.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 4

There were two mass shootings this weekend. The guy in the White House who enables and encourages racism, bigotry, and xenophobia is largely escaping responsibility. Reporters are too chicken shit to call it what it is - white supremacist terrorism - because god forbid they accurately report on things. I mean, it is not like a domestic terrorist sent pipe bombs to the Obamas, Clintons, Eric Holder, about 10 other Democrats, and some media outlets while literally living out of a vehicle that became known as the MAGA Van. 

When Clinton was President, this poison oozed out of the swamps of "jack booted thugs" in Waco and resulted in the Oklahoma City bombing. Under Obama, it was birtherism, FEMA camps, and whatever other tinfoil hat conspiracy theories these lunatics could think of. But now, it is just out in the open, not merely by a wink and nod by Trump, but actively goading people into action by maligning anyone who does not have white skin. 

This will blow over (the half-life of news coverage of a mass shooting is already short but with all those well-heeled media types having vacation plans, it might be shorter than usual and of course, Congress is out until after Labor Day) and we will wait for the next tragedy to happen while some very basic things could otherwise be done:

• Banning assault rifles
• Banning large capacity magazines
• Closing the gun show loophole (universal background checks)
• Bolstering DOJ prosecution of straw purchasers & gun shops who sell to them

None of this will happen of course. We have just accepted that you can be at a garlic festival or shopping at Wal-Mart and some angry white man with an AR-15 and enough ammunition to start a small war might stroll in and start firing.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 3

I got back to the gym today. Nothing crazy, just an hour on the treadmill at 4.0, but it felt good to exercise a little bit. Hopefully, stupid brain is coming to an end and I can get back to normal.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy 

August 2

There is a great scene in Season 2 of Mad Men when recently hired Head of Account Management Herman "Duck" Phillips's kids are dropped off at the office by his ex-wife. The two start bickering, about what I do not remember, and she says "but you're not good in the afternoon." It was, in its time, a polite way of saying someone had a drinking problem (which he did). 

For Duck, it was alcohol. For me, it is what I refer to as my "stupid brain." My stupid brain convinces me that a headache is an early warning sign of a stroke. That some stomach pain is an about-to-burst appendix. That some tingling in my foot means I have early onset diabetes. It results in a heightened "fight or flight" response (which for me is high already) so any time someone gets too close to me (which in New Jersey happens A LOT) or tailgates while I am driving (also happens A LOT) I get even more anxious than I usually am. It means I avoid other people, even people I like, or people I don't really know but am friendly with (the anxiety of a minute of chit chat with the old guy at Shop Rite who mans the self-checkout is off the charts rn). 

This latest episode has gone on for almost two weeks. It results in my missing the gym, barely making it through the work day, never wanting to leave the house unless absolutely necessary, eating a lot of junk food, and generally waking up each morning assuming I am going to drop dead that day. It stops me from doing much of anything or thinking about anything other than getting through that day. This obviously is not super conducive to functioning in life. It always goes away, but it could be tomorrow or three weeks from now. For now, it is debilitating and exhausting.

Follow me on Twitter - @scarylawyerguy