Holy shit, you guys, I am so sorry for the delay! Hello everyone!

Like, seriously. My apologies - you see, I've started a new job down in da Bronx and the transition into doing so has consumed my time. I've had to get other gigs done, write my will, possibly look for a sublet; stuff like that.

Yeah, a new job! Finally, that veil of post-grad unemployment existential terror will lift, at least until August when the job is over. But let's not worry about that now!

I know I promised a Part II to my Valentine's Day article on movie love. Will it come? Maybe. Maybe next year? Maybe never. Tell you the truth, it was massively difficult to finish. So mazeltov.

Instead, like any writer my age, I'm going to channel my youthful experience and weary thoughts into my art. Stick it to the man, man! Stick it to the man with...ten helpful tips on transitioning to a new job? Eh, sounds about right. Here it is, Sweetpete style.

10. Do all of your hot yoga on the weekends

I'm sorry, but you're going to have to make this sacrifice. I understand - hot yoga to me is a uniquely important, highly minor aspect of my life, one that lingers like a post-it note from an old colleague you're fond of. Too much perspiration, especially around the circumference of your third eye, will shrivel you like a raisin amidst your daily work routine. You need all of your body fully hydrated!

Otherwise, you'll be using the company water filter too much - not a problem at first, but very soon, people will begin to notice. Lisa from accounting will go to fill her diffuser bottle, but she'll be met with disappointment as she asks herself "Jesus, is there an orca in here that needs water for their tank?"

Do you want that embarrassment? No, I don't think you do. Dehydrate on the weekends, if you must, with plenty of time for water to return to your orifices.

9. Have a denim jacket ironed and ready to go, but be proud of it

Yo, for real though. Denim jackets - or dungarees, as most old-timers like to call them - are a rarity. Seen as square, unfashionable trinkets of the 90s fashion cesspool, you will see them little worn with pride. Usually, they're only thrust on when the wearer is ready to leave and go home for the night.

I say TO HELL WITH THAT. Wear it at your desk. When introducing yourself to the other office staff, and they ask to see pictures of that cool memory you were just bragging about, make sure it's a memory that entails you wearing a denim jacket. If you wear it meekly, that's only half-gallon. And no one wants to see half-gallon. Go full-gallon, my friend, and you shall become a legend. If not, don't worry - this is not a requirement. Bolster what already is into something infinite and denim-filled.

8. Make a deal with that goddamned pigeon/owl outside your window

I love animals to death. Birds? Never met an aviary species I wasn't damn near instantaneously fond of. But birds ain't got no income taxes or bills to pay. Maybe there's a system of bird bartering - birdering - that we humans cannot perceive in our infinite arrogance, yet if there is, they complete this machination with no muss or fuss. Their commute is also much easier, cause they have wings and can fly and shit. Which is why when they chirp or make bird sounds all night, the frustration skyrockets. However, this is their land, and that's their tree. You can't force them out, and I know what you're thinking Dirty Harry Sundance Kid, but you can't shoot them either. Just don't.

Be clever - negotiate. Making deals on the side will honestly help your craft and trade as well, it has to. You go out and tell those ornery motherfuckers that, hey, they need to keep quiet so you can get some sleep. They'll raise their eyebrows at you, but then you mention that there will be a reward and perk on their part. Unveil a big old glob of birdseed, or a new and improved IKEA nest, and watch in the utmost glee as they accept these terms. Sleep well, bird friend.

7. TiVo the Oscars and devise a strategy to avoid social media and keep the magic alive

Because seriously, why put a highly popular awards show on at Sunday, and have it end at like midnight when most film people are headed to work at the crack of dawn? Why?? And now that means when you get my article next week discussing the winners and nominees and maybe a rundown of best and worst winners, it won't have the same sporadic spark to it that it'd have 'twere I to watch the event live.

Sons of bitches. I mean, let's be honest, the Oscars mean squat in the long run, but this year - this year! - who doesn't potentially want to watch Jordan flipping Peele walk up to the podium? Guillermo Del Toro, lovable monster extraordinaire, give another great speech? All wonderful moments I'm gonna have to miss cause Bruce Villanch don't know shit about normal peoples' schedules! No wonder their viewership declines steadily.

Anyway, stick to your email and texts. And then watch, like, the second half the night after. You can still catch the first half!

6. Don't be afraid to admit you hate your commuting train

The Metro-North and I have an idiosyncratic, complex relationship full of idiosyncrasies. Its red-and-white leather seats and wooden 70s walls promise a neat little throwback, but beyond aesthetic, this train sucks. Oh, and there's sometimes a guy at night who's just had it and announces the stops in a Bane voice - he's the dopest - but the pleasure ends there. Sweat gathers, delays occur shockingly frequent, all the while you begin to lament. Damnit, you shout, I should have just moved to get that gig in Minnetonka, Minnesota, rather than languish on this miserable hunk of junk! Like a punk covered in gunk!

Friend, it's okay. Trains, by nature, are elongated, bulk beasts of metal and rubber. They were not made to be loved. They were made to complete their duty, timely, professionally, and trainerly. You should not damn yourself for not romancing this ungainly monstrosity. It's not planning on romancing you. Hey, as long as the seats are comfortable!

5. The Mediterranean diet is your BFF

Lentils. Hummus. Pitas. Grilled veggies. Grape leaves. Baba ganoush. Nuts. Plant-based foods. FALAFEL. Whole grain. Olives. These are all your best friends, and this friend group is a poppin'. Probiotics! Exotic flavor! This is the friend group you wish you went to homecoming with in a flashing blaze of glory! You have a second chance now. Embracing these fellas will clean your body and whoop-whoop your taste buds. There is no reason for this piece of advice other than pure deliciousness.

Ugh.

4. Find a motivational speech to tell yourself when you wake up at 4:50am to wipe away the hatred for all things at that hour

As you arise in your bed, your eyes feeling like Foreman Joe gorilla-glued them shut, your lower spine begging you to throw it back on your mattress, you begin to have thoughts. You know, like you question reality, you pray for a Nor-Easter to sweep through and cancel work for the next week, and you really begin to hate the workforce demands. All understandable, all natural. Not an easy task to get used to. I don't wake-board, and if I did and got thrashed about, you can be certain I would curse my very temporal and physical placement! Why did I say yes to Erico and go to Serenac Lake, when instead I could have called my sister and seen Call Me By Your Name for the third time? As I seep underwater, though, I look at the ocean floor, as I do the early morning moonlight...and I whisper to myself:

"Hey...this is kind of nice. Do you...

Do you ever feel like a plastic bag
Drifting through the wind wanting to start again?
Do you ever feel, feel so paper-thin
Like a house of cards one blow from caving in?
Do you ever feel already buried deep?
Six feet under screams, but no one seems to hear a thing
Do you know that there's still a chance for you?
'Cause there's a spark in you
[Pre-Chorus]
You just gotta ignite the light
And let it shine
Just own the night
Like the Fourth of July
[Chorus]
'Cause baby, you're a firework
C'mon, show 'em what you're worth
Make 'em go, "Aah, aah, aah"
As you shoot across the sky-y-y

3. Watch 'Ratatouille'

Not only is this is a great film, but it promotes radical thinking and alliance amongst the work place. Remy is a paragon of vanquishing iniquities and thrusting yourself into an environment you're not yet used to, one you feel infinitely vulnerable in. Linguini? Everyone's a Linguini. They just need their rat friend to help pull their air and bring out their best qualities. Colette? An inspiration everywhere. She doesn't fuck around, but hey, she's still got time to make sure everyone in the kitchen is up to date. Horst, the sous chef? His thumb has done some crazy stuff. Chef Auguste? Remy's inspiration. Yeah, no Auguste, no Remy. No Remy, no Ratatouille. He would have been whittling into nothing in some dumpster adjacent to a BBQ joint. Remy's brother Emile, the thiccie? Great guy. I'd so have a beer with him. Anton Ego, the critic? Peter O'Toole is mean, lean, and steals the screen.

Look, point is, this flick is a paradigm of intergenerational and inter-people melding. There's so much dank hints of not holding back any and all artistic instinct. You'd do well to absorb its utopian ideals and implement that into your craft.

2. Create a didgeridoo playlist for the commute

"He's finally lost it", you might be saying to yourselves. "Not only is he eschewing the optimal Jack Johnson/Norah Jones relaxation vibe, but for a windward instrument, keeping one awake?" First off, have some respect. That windward instrument has more history than you, plebe, and my brother can play it very well, so when you insult its power, you insult Frankie. And Frankie will not be insulted. Secondly, yeah, when I listened to it first, I never thought I'd sleep! Au contraire. But one time I was headed to Atlanta to visit my brother, and reminiscing on an old didgeridoo playlist we listened to in Nepal, I flicked it on for sentimentality. The plane was on the tarmac, as the deep vibrations and hum hums inundated my ear holes.

When I woke up, we were in the air, soaring over Missouri. Wow wow. Wow. I felt how I did the first time I saw Ratatouille: great. More so, I was stunned. Stunned! How did such a vibrato carry me into slumber, atop a plane roar? I never forgot. The first day of work, I did the same thing, and when I woke up, it was time to hop off at Harlem. And so I did, brothers and sisters. So I did. Trust in the didgeridoo. It'll knock you right into dreamland.

1. Carry a nail clipper at all time

We underestimate our nail growth. Oh boy, do we ever. You clip 'em, smirking down in satisfaction with nary a care in the world. How great a task that, once finished, does not have to be completed again for a good period of time? The best, right? You don't even have to think about it, unlike taxes. When you must revert your attention to those clippings once more, no more than five minutes - ten, if you relish the process like I - of your time is consumed. A glorious process we should not underestimate.

And all the same, we do. Alongside so many of Earth's treasures we undervalue is that of clipping one's nails. We don't give it the attention it deserves, and that is why you should have a nail clipper with you: because in the excitement and hustle and bustle and craziness, you will overlook it. Hangnails will follow, and Lisa from accounting is going to notice any moment, after which she will shoot unsavory glances at those nails like a wolf disregards sheep.

ABC - Always Be Clipping.