Mix loan documents into guilt and worry, stir with emails and phonecalls from parents and boyfriend, then serve

I have been unexpectedly busy this week, even though my colleagues have done their best to shield me from the worst of it. The two associates did not dare to tell the partner that I was one of the three resident finance lawyers (because they know I have to go to New York on Friday) and chose to do it by themselves - staying in the office until 6.40 a.m. to send out a document. I felt so guilty I volunteered to help out, not fully realising the scale of the task I was about to receive, with the result that I had to cancel my lunch plans and have been beavering away in my office.

To be honest, it's been a relief to be working. For the six hours I was going through the documents, I wasn't worrying or feeling guilty about things. Classic. I am now turning into a workaholic, emotion-shy cow. Good grief.

I've been feeling guilty so often the past couple of days, I may be turning Catholic. I think it has something to do with the fact that my parents are giving me 'advice' on my stay in New York:

Dad (by email): You should not stay over at a man's house. Anyway, he hasn't asked me for your hand in marriage. And even if he had, it wouldn't be proper.

Mum (on the phone): Can't you stay at a friend's house? Do you have to stay with him? I know you want to see him honey but that's not all there is to life.

Dad (by email): You can afford to stay in a hotel. M.'s parents may not like the fact that you are staying with M. I hear that the older generation of Korean-Americans can be quite conservative.

Mum (on the phone): Do you want me to call my friend in New York? You can try staying with her.

Dad (by email): Are you trying to move to New York?

I know my parents are concerned for me and I suppose I am also worried that they may have a point - I don't want to upset anyone, least of all M.'s parents. But what else am I meant to do? I don't want to waste time and money getting a hotel room. M. gets annoyed when I tell him about my parents - I suppose partly because he doesn't really know what else to do, either - but if I didn't tell him, I'd make things much worse by being moodily worried about it by myself, then go nuts. You'd think at my age I should be able to deal with my parents and boyfriend and sleeping arrangements.

One of the two associates saw me under the pile of documents, at a moment when I was feeling particularly miserable.
"OK, who is it? Did you receive a call from your parents, or was it your boyfriend?" he asked. So I must have looked miserable, too.
"All three," I said.
"Who was the beam of light?"
"None of them."
"So all three left much to be desired?"
"Something like that, but not really."

I will probably get another phone call from my dad tonight.