Take Care of Me Please

Dear Bella,

Greetings from your SuperEgo. Yeah I know I know, I'm supposed to be so subterranean that you can't reach me unless we get some hypnosis or some other cockamamie* crunchy ass treatment that I have no doubt you would drag me through. Listen up lady- I'm here and I needed to peer up and speak to you for a minute. So whats up with all this LA lunching??? Huh. In the past month you have had not 1 but 5 mentoring informational meals at fancy places where the other person did most of the talking and paid. You sat and listened to wise but late coming advice about breaking it through in the industry. You smiled and acted grateful while these five people who ARE YOUNGER than you paid the bill and told you to keep your chin up. You patted your self for being beyond age and able to hear the last strands of maybe meaningful counsel while pondering how you are gonna sell your car, move your shit home and have enough money to flee the country when the sediment clears from your impending nervous break down that you shall have when we move back in with your 70yr old folks.

Then dear-heart- you administered one more blow- you dialed the number of a boy 8 yrs your junior after your attempts to date him faltered 3 times young lady. DEAR BELLA- WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO ME. Hello Hello? Does this thing work? Can you hear me???? This is your ego speaking. I do not want to hear any more advise from juniors nor do I want you cavorting with little boys. ARE WE CLEAR??? Good. I'm glad we had this talk. Now go out there and seize the day- no sleeping, no web stuff except writing about me. Now I am going to re-submerge myself and make you do things you don't want to do without knowing it- all in the name to make your self look good to others.

Love
Your SuperEgo.

*Yiddish for devoid of good sense or judgment