Yesterday afternoon, I had an attack of generalized fear and panic and self-loathing unmatched in recent memory. E.S. and I had the following exchange:
FAUSTUS (in tears): I don’t understand why you’re with me.
E.S.: You don’t need to understand.
Then we watched four episodes of Six Feet Under on HBO on Demand.
What on earth could I have done in a former life to deserve such a man in this one?