A.K.A. Winter’s requisite burn-out post #1. Although arguably it’s #3.
Where would you go in a moment’s recklessness? Puerto Rico? Egypt? Canada?
Set the table for twelve, light the candles, pour the wine, and walk away from it all.
Stay in New York: Work in a cafe – and another cafe, and a bar – to scrape together the money for rent?
What gives someone you just met the right to tell you you’re overworked? What gives them the right to be right? And how can you explain that you overwork yourself?