a bad patch

So, I know this is supposed to be "Kate's guide to just about nothing" but I actually have some good advice today.

If it's the Thursday before your 30th birthday and you're premenstrual, considering an enormous career change, and it happens to be a week and a half before Christmas (which you're doing on the 23rd this year, thanks to your sister's in-laws… more on that later), don't go out with an exceptionally decent guy who, for whatever reasons of his own, doesn't feel like he can commit to a relationship with you on your terms immediately, and then drink half a bottle of wine. Or, if you do, make sure you have at least $50 in your wallet so that when you freak out (like I did), you have enough cash to get back to South Park Slope.

Wait, there's more.

When this same man tells you that he has to take things slowly so he can change old patterns that have, over time, proven not to work, don't nag him and poke him and threaten him, thinking that by doing all that you can get him to do what you want. Not only will he be resentful of your (outlandish) behavior, all you'll succeed in doing (if you're not as lucky as I am) is getting him to go back to the pattern that didn't work the last six million times.

Wait, there's even more.

If you do freak out, and end up leaving the upper west side at around 11:30, (a) make sure your phone has enough battery to keep you on the line with at least one of the three best friends you have at any given time, (b) try to find a cab that isn't blaring the Jesus Channel, c) try to pick a guy who is understanding and won't judge you for losing your mind so badly that you can't even tell your friends (from (a), above) what you said, what he said or how you left things, and (d) make sure you can call in sick for at least two hours the next day. You'll need that time to replenish your fluids, de-puff your eyeballs and sleep it all off.

One last thing:

If this happens to you, don't worry. It's normal. You've got a lot on your plate, and it will take some time to handle it. Relish your friends, who love you and worry about you. Eat sushi with someone who knows you well enough to say, "do you want me to distract you with my own problem for a minute?" Don't bother going to see the gingerbread houses in Chelsea Market (more in another post). And if you're my friend, and this happens to you, call me. Day or night, I don't care. You're not alone, you're not the stranger you seem to be to yourself. You're just having a bad patch.