I'm sure I've written about this before. A peek behind the curtain would reveal that I don't check to see if I've already discussed something, because if it's coming up again it's in the air, the lesson hasn't been learned, or I've had a new thought about it.

Everytime I leave La Belle Province, I am reminded that the reputation of Polite Canada doesn't count in Quebec. Strange that for all the impeccably cool art vibes, and European tendencies, Montreal isn't friendly per se.

This essay will be a two-parter. I've never done this before, but it seems fitting. See, I'm always telling you (and anyone who will listen) that we must face our discomforts to level up, so it seems apt that you should join me through a joyful discomfort.

While it should go without saying, allow me to open this essay by clarifying that I am not a doctor. I do have a correspondence school diploma in Adult Psychology, an expensive piece of paper I was really proud to get, and Concordia says can get me out of Psych101.