Yesterday I heard a snippet on the radio that, of white collar workers, the unhappiest is someone who is an unmarried 42-year-old woman who is making less than $100K as a doctor or a lawyer. Note to self: do not become a lawyer next year for fear of sinking into suicidal depression.

Today I had trouble dragging myself to work, as I will spend much of the day cutting and sorting nametags, a task that makes me grouchy in the "I'm smarter than this" vein (though why it should, since I have to sing the alphabet song over and over again in order to alphabetize anything, I couldn't say). However, today's radio snippet was about unemployment in California. And you know what that was? Awfully damn sobering. I am newly grateful to have a job and to have my big budget struggle be whether or not I can afford to take Italian Level 2, not whether I can afford to pay my rent or buy food.

Hi there, nametags. What's up?