From the Jill Schwartz Memorial Library here in Sultry, Savannah, Georgia, this is Obscure.

Season three, weathering heights. I am your host, your friend, your lover, your literary

mansplainer in chief and Georgianologist Michael E. and Black Southern gentleman, Esquire,

with starting today's episode with a word of thanks to everybody who reached out to me after

last week's episode in which I discussed my crumbling mental health. As I said last week,

I had come to you from a slightly elevated place in terms of mood. I am happy to report that that

has continued. Now, I also express some frustration because I don't know what changed in my life

that would explain my mood alleviating. Maybe it's no different than clouds blowing in, clouds blowing

out. I don't know. I mean, when you're in the middle of a rainstorm, you thank God, is it ever

going to stop raining and then it stops raining? Of course, we can explain that. We understand that

storm systems move according to predictable patterns, if not entirely predictable, then

somewhat predictable. But that does not seem to be the case with my moods or probably indeed

anybody's moods. I mean, sometimes, yes, something good happens. You're like, oh, hey, I'm happy,

but trust me, nothing good has happened, although we are getting ready to head off to Italy.

Now, does that improve my mood? Not really, because as I've said before, I don't have foresight,

so I can't imagine myself in Italy. If anything, I'm approaching it with a certain amount of dread,

because I don't know. Like, one of the themes of last season was that change itself while rewarding

can be very challenging to the point where you're like, I don't ever want to experience change

again, because change can be confounding, especially when you reach a certain age as I have.

Change is wonderful. It grows synapses in the brain, but it also produces

anxiety and foreboding. I couldn't... Look, do I have a sense of foreboding about going to

live in Italy for three months? No, but I don't know what's going to happen. Armarth and I are going

...