DEAR HARRIETTE: I recently got into a heated argument with my dad, and it’s been bothering me ever since. The fight started when I told him I wanted to move to a different city for a job opportunity.
• Among the most annoying things when painting a room are all of the drips along the edges of the can. It can become extremely messy and make it difficult to reseal the can when you’re finished. To prevent drips, do this: Stretch a rubber band over the paint and across the center of the opening. Each time you dip the brush, run it across the rubber band so excess paint drips back into the can and not over the sides. How easy is that?
DEAR HARRIETTE: My friends and I made plans to go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art last weekend to visit the rooftop before it closed (not just for the season, but for the next five years due to upcoming renovations). I was really looking forward to it since it felt like a once-in-along- time experience we’d all share together.
Abraham Lincoln made the presidency a pulpit. Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt transformed the office into an engine of big government. John F. Kennedy made it a platform of inspiration. Presidents routinely take the office they inherit and reshape it to their own tastes, focus it on their own priorities, remake it in their own images.
DEAR HARRIETTE: My friend is upset with me because I didn’t defend her during a heated argument in a group chat with some of our mutual friends. I didn’t feel I should get involved. The conversation had escalated quickly, and I thought it was better to stay neutral. Now she’s distant and barely responds when I try to reach out.
DEAR HARRIETTE: I’ve been a therapist for over 20 years, and while I’ve found deep meaning in helping others heal, lately the work has become emotionally exhausting. I listen to people’s pain all day, and I can feel it sinking into me. Sometimes I come home completely depleted, with nothing left to give to my own family or myself. I’ve tried taking breaks, going to supervision, even attending therapy myself but the burnout doesn’t seem to lift. I’m starting to wonder if I’ve simply given all I can in this field.
Sometimes I think we should stay someplace fancier. All our friends do. When my husband, Peter, and I are in Mexico, we stay at Casa de los Soles, a small group of apartment-style rooms owned by our gracious landlord, Jorge. We came here three years ago, when our lodging plans in another town fell through. It was high season, and we were very worried there would be nothing available. But Jorge answered my frantic plea on a San Miguel de Allende Facebook page, and we were delighted with the small, clean apartment in the center of town, just outside the bustling artisan market.









