P.S.

And as for Zen? It's kind of real. So weary that I don't really care all the much that my ATM card won't give me anymore money for the bartender and organist or that the plumber my mom called to replace the jank looking downstairs bathroom faucet actually just ripped the whole thing out and it's sitting on the lawn and the downstairs bathroom is non-functional is not reaaaaaaaaallly what I would have called zen. I'm not at peace. I'm calm like a serial killer is calm.