Every fucking day, people--every goddamned day I walk out the door. And many I don't; barely left the house all day and yet it was fraught with countless psychological perils. 

Why it's medicine:

September is the most dangerous month

I don't know why, but September seems accursed. It once seemed lucky and my endeavors that began then seemed to go well. In the last few years, however, it has been very troublesome and is best weathered by duck-and-cover.
Usually, if I can muddle through until October, things work out, but it's tough, and it looks like this will be another rough one--I'm determined to stick it out this time despite whatever slings and arrows fate sees fit to throw at me.
Tiresome, but what can you do?

It's the quiet life from here on in....

"I see it all perfectly: there are two possible situations--

one can either do this or that.

My honest opinion and my friendly advice is this:

do it or do not do it--you will regret both."

Bazinga, Mr. Kierkegaard. 

Heading for a grim and ascetic life. Better that you choose it than it choose you.