“It’s good it’s breaking,” I said. “It’s just—all these months. This whole year. And now I have no job.” I was losing it, actually starting to cry. “I swung too wide. I gambled too much. And maybe I won’t even have a story at the end of it. And I’m letting down all these women—” “Calm down!” Jonathan shouted, snapping me out of it. “All that’s happening right now is you haven’t slept or eaten in two weeks.” A horn sounded outside. “Are you in a cab?” he asked. “Uh-huh,” I sniffled. “Oh my God. We are going to talk about this, but first you are going to tip that driver really well.”
