You're lying there at 11 PM, finally comfortable, finally quiet—and your brain decides it's the perfect time to remind you that you said "you too" when a waiter told you to enjoy your meal in 2009. It keeps hitting play: the awkward laugh you did at your ex's parents' dinner, the time you waved back at someone who wasn't waving at you, that PowerPoint presentation where you mispronounced "quinoa" twice. Your brain is like a vengeful projectionist who's been waiting all day for the theater to empty out so he could finally screen the worst film ever made, starring only you, for an audience of one.