Christ

I got home from work at 10:05 pm and Cha said: "I just got off the phone with BroJ. He wants you to call him as soon as you get in."

Me: Oh, God.
She: I told him you'd call as soon as you got in.

It's now 1:00 am, and I just hung up the phone, which is why I said "Oh, God." Now, don't get me wrong--I love my stepbrother, and would do anything in my power to help him, but to get the question "What should I be doing with my life?" from your 42-year old stepbrother, living in his Mom's basement with no job, at 10:15 pm on a Wednesday--that ain't right!

I drank 750ml of expensive merlot, and then two bourbons straight up, and I still had no answer for him. I was out of booze before I was out of phone time.

I wanted to say: "Look, I leave work at 10pm. Cha leaves work at 5pm. She goes to work at 8am, I go to work at 1pm. This leaves us scant opportunity on weeknights to, you know--well, actually, I guess you DON'T, given the fact that you're single and haven't been in a relationship for 10 years," but that would have been cruel and insensitive, so instead I stayed on the phone, growing more and more incoherent as the conversation continued; I had this same conversation with Pork Heaven two weeks ago--and I'm in no position to give advice, given that I still have no idea what I want to be when I grow up; BTW, the quickest way to get on my bad side is to ask for advice.

And now it's time for bed.