You know that feeling when you're just *done*? Like, really done. I had this gig, helping out with some college kids' presentations, just to make rent. And this one kid, bless his heart, he’s up there, silent lecture hall, you can hear a pin drop, and he totally loses his train of thought. He looks at his professor, then at the floor, then back at the professor, and I swear to god, for a split second, I just wanted to SCREAM “FUCK YOU, PROFESSOR!” right along with him. Like, not at the kid, not at the prof really, just… at the whole thing. The quiet. The expectations. The fact that I’m still hustling at 60 and watching someone else’s life play out… sometimes you just wanna yell. Even if it makes zero sense.