["Since You Asked..." is published every Monday on Salon.com by Cary Tennis.  For the original columns, click here and here.]

Dear Cary OC,

Several years ago, I did what a lot of people just dream about: I got to begin, and sustain, a career as a writer. I worked hard; I'd climbed out of a stifling marriage with a young child in tow and recognized that my midlife crisis wasn't going to be about a convertible or an ashram. It was never about the money (anyone who writes knows that already; note to everyone else: It can't be about the money), but I had responsibilities to my daughter that made total freedom to chase the dream ridiculous.

So, how did it come about? I met a lovely man a couple of years after the divorce. We are compatible; my daughter adores him; he is kind. He, too, was at a crossroads in his working life, and together we navigated a direction for him to become financially stable. I financially supported him through that time (several years) in my previous soul-sucking-but-sound job. When that was accomplished, I took my turn. I couldn't have done it without him.

The problem? He too is an artist. He's very good. He too has dreams. He works at his stable, unionized job (no, not the auto industry), which has great benefits and a pension. He worked hard to get there; but it's not what he craves. My question? Do I owe him the same chance that I got? I don't earn enough for him to quit his job. And in this economic climate, that would be crazy, whether he was with me or not.

He doesn't complain and is proud of my accomplishments. I have encouraged him to work on his art in his down time -- which he instead uses to mostly watch TV or play games. I worry he's lost his ambition, while I'm recognizing mine. I work very hard in a very tight industry. I guess I don't know if he just doesn't have the ambition, or if I'm an albatross around his neck.

Do I have a debt here?
Dear Indebted,

Yes you do.  However, it isn't necessarily as deep as you say it is, and doesn't necessarily require the kind of repayment you think it does.  The debt, as you observe, is that you contributed less to the finances of the household in return for pursuing a career that you love.  Like the aforementioned convertible, this mid-life-crisis-related activity carried a significant financial cost to the household that your husband agreed to let you incur. 

So you want to repay him in kind, by letting him pursue a career as an artist.  But, citing the current economic situation, you don't feel like your family can incur that cost at this time.  That is a reasonable position: you got to buy a convertible when times were good, but now that times are bad, you can't afford another one. 

But have you considered that maybe he doesn't actually want that career as an artist? I'm just reading your letter, where it says: he doesn't complain, he doesn't pursue his art in his down time.  I think you want to repay him in kind, but I'm not so sure he really wants to quit his stable, well-paying job to try to make money as an artist.

Lucky for you, I have the answer.  And, again it is right in your letter: "I have encouraged him to work on his art in his down time -- which he instead uses to mostly watch TV or play games."  BAM.  Buy him a big screen, HD television.  They are much cheaper than career changes, not to mention that they are the Best. Things. Ever. Plus you'll be helping the economy! It's win-win!

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Dear Cary OC,

I recently began a new job at a successful restaurant. Prior to starting work there, I had been looking for something outside of the service industry (I've been working in service for years and felt burnt out), but this particular position offered excellent pay from the outset, and being strapped for cash at the time, I took it.

I'm having trouble deciding how to say this, so I guess I'll be blunt: I am sleeping with one of the managers at the restaurant. He is not directly my manager, but a higher-up nonetheless. I was attracted to him from the outset, but I never in a million years thought something would or could happen between us. After an extremely accidental, exciting night out on the town, we began hanging out in secret, and discovered that we have quite a lot in common. Frankly, he's incredible. I haven't been this fascinated by another person in a long time, and according to him, the feeling is mutual. Neither of us have ever done anything along these lines before; needless to say, fraternizing with management is super-against-the-rules for both parties involved, and if this is ever discovered, one or both of us will certainly get fired. Because of that fact, I haven't breathed a word about this to a single soul, not even to my best friend (and we're inseparable).

Cary, what am I doing? It's extremely hard for me to bury this primal, powerful thing when I'm as selective as I am about the people I date. And, to be clear, this isn't all about sex; we've actually only done the deed once, after many days of just hanging out and talking, getting to know one another.

What do I do? I don't want to stop, although I'm sure most people would tell me I should. Help.

Confused

Dear Confused,

Your question, if I may, can be boiled down to this:

"I'll get fired from my job that I don't really want if I break up with this person I'm totally into.  So, I either need to quit the job I don't want, or break off the relationship I do want. I should break off the relationship, right?"

Right.  Exactly. *sigh* Do you also get confused by the placemat mazes at Denny's? Oh no, I have to go either left, towards the exit of the maze, or right, into the trap door! WHAT DO I DO?!?!  The answer, by the way, is to have a hysterectomy, so you and your assuredly genius-level-IQ boyfriend don't release your offspring into an unsuspecting world.