 Good morning, Hank. It's Tuesday. It's actually not Tuesday, but it will be in the fullness of time. It is, however, morning, like five o'clock in the morning, and in a stunning turn of events, I find myself in an airport. This is gonna be like an old-school vlog with this video where I talk about my feelings a lot. I have a lot of feelings right now, not really good feelings or bad feelings, just a lot of them. So I'm on my way to Los Angeles to promote the Looking for Alaska show, which comes out this Friday or Saturday in some places, and I just got very anxious that TSA was going to look in my backpack and ask me about these weird Pizza John Halloween masks, and I kept imagining these long conversations where I would try to explain the entire history of Pizza John and how I came to have a Halloween mask of my own mustachioed face inside my backpack, but fortunately, I just got through TSA no problem. By the way, these are available at dftba.com if you're looking for a properly horrifying Halloween costume, but I am on a tangent. Okay, hold on. I have to go to Los Angeles. Greetings from the floor of a hotel room that is very near the interstate. Right, so the Looking for Alaska show comes out on Friday or Saturday, and the reviews so far have been really good. Vulture called it the rare adaptation that improves upon the original. Hypeable said that the show's commitment to the heart of the book makes for a wonderful experience for Greens fans and newcomers alike. Now, I did not make the show, but I do remember just over two years ago waiting for the reviews of Turtles all the way down to come in with a constant overwhelming nausea. So I am happy and relieved for the people who did make the show. Also, I've just seen the Netflix adaptation of Let It Snow, a book worn Miracle Maureen Johnson and I wrote like 11 years ago, and the movie is so sweet and heartwarming and lovely. And the cast is amazing. It comes out on November 8th on Netflix. And the other thing that's happening right now is the forthcoming announcement of our big project with Partners in Health Sierra Leone, which has a lot of moving parts and is very exciting, but also very overwhelming. For the last two years, working with Partners in Health on this project in Sierra Leone has really given my life a sense of purpose and direction, which has been a wonderful gift to me. But now it is about to be announced that I am definitely feeling a little anxious. Then again, everything is making me feel anxious at the moment. I'm like a piano that has a lot of different keys, but only plays one note, which brings me belatedly to the point, or at least a point. I used to think personality was stagnant. Like when I was young, I thought I was in the process of being formed over time, and then once adulthood hit and the cement of myself dried, I would become this unchanging thing. And in some ways, this belief kind of comforted me because I had so much emotional instability in my teens and twenties that I really craved that imagined changelessness of adulthood. But that just hasn't been my experience of adulthood. I mean, I see the world very differently from how I did 5 or 10 or 15 years ago, even though I've been an adult that whole time. There are lots of examples of this, but one is that even 10 years ago, I mostly saw my anxiety as like an embarrassing character weakness. And if I talked about it at all, it was usually to make fun of it and by extension to make fun of myself. But now I understand my anxiety as part of a brain disorder that I have, which isn't my fault, or at least I usually understand that. Maybe in the future, I will understand my anxiety differently. I don't know. I know that I'm done growing up, but I hope that I'm not done growing. Now, better understanding my anxiety is not really like reducing my anxiety, but I mean, I really want to have a butt at the end of that sentence, except I don't have one right now. All right, I got one, but this is temporary and I will be okay. And so will you. If there's one thing we know about the universe, it's that this is temporary. Hank, I'll see you on Friday.