I am unsure that manly ennui is a thing, but mulling over career prospects and time of life bullshit with Adele playing in the background suggests the opposite as a distinct possibility. A man shouldn’t feel plucky and wronged at the same time; two bars into Chasing Pavement having a good cry and putting on fresh lipstick seems less Buffalo Bill and more legitimate coping strategy. I can’t tell if I’m burning with wrath or if it’s just hot flashes from the estrogen surge. Time to hit shuffle. Musically and otherwise.