Funny thing is though, moving to NYC is probably more likely than me asking for help, the obvious remedy to susan the schitzo. But really, ask for help? Please.
You know what HELP stands for? Having Everything Less than Perfect.
(I made that up all by myself. I spend a lot of time in the car. Alone.)
Seriously. Not only would getting help result in things not being done to my extremely high and totally unachievable standards, but I would actually have to admit that I can't do it all. And I've always been able to do it all. Always. Asking the Prof to help? I don't know. I hate doing it. When we first started dating he told me how much he liked mowing grass, and I got this little gleam in my eye. Oh yeah, I had found my man. But, it didn't really pan out. Turns out, he's not so much of a lawnmower man.
But maybe I'm getting tired of doing it all. So, I'm going to try to prioritize, I'm going to say no, I'm going to stop obsessing about a 4.0 GPA and maybe, just maybe, I'll ask Prof to help.