remember those days when you were young and yeah work sucked but you lived with yr parents or in dorm rooms or had cheap rent and you could just do whatever you wanted with whoever you wanted and you had DREAMS and you were going to make a DIFFERENCE and change the WORLD and you laughed and believed rumours, even lies, had no idea the country you lived in was bombing other ones, had no idea they didn't want you to own your own body, you were too busy experimenting with your body, wow, it can do this, and telling your best friends every single detail (or holding it back if that was just too much for them).
and suddenly you realize that your job is not your job but a CAREER and your CAT is your FAMILY and the savings in the bank are outnumbered by an extraordinary amount of loans from an MFA that you can't DO anything with and you don't like what it is you do between 9 and 5 or it's okay really, compared to with what others do, but really, IS THIS IT?? and you have yet another migraine and you hate school and there's dishes in the sink and you broke another glass and your cat is hungry and you just want to cry or sleep, really sleep b/c you have yet another migraine and you are afraid you are going to eventually fulfill the librarian stereotype: bun, conservative clothes, old maid, quiet, lives alone, lots of cats. my hair is in a bun now, i'm wearing old cords and a tank top, my one cat is munching, i live alone, i date a boy who insists upon always living in another state (you have a boyfriend?) and i'm like, really, i am a librarian, i know it's not hard to tell.