the thing is, i just don't have anything clever to say.
the thing is, i haven't accomplished anything i've set out to do. and at nearly 26 it starts to wear on you. because in four years i'm going to be 30. it's getting to the point where if i don't do something fast, i'm going to turn into a harry chapin song. i made it to college, god knows how, but i couldn't make it through. i write poems that never see the light of day, much less the pages of a magazine. i don't date; i hardly see people at all, except rugrats and their parents. i still live in the same town i grew up in, in my parents' house. hell, i can't even afford to get my own place, much less go back and finish my degree.
it just starts to feel really hopeless. don't even get me started on work. i have met my nemesis, and he is three years old and blonde. i start a new bruise collection every monday. i'm starting to dread going there right now, in fact. it's pathetic to be this upset over a job that has nothing to do with what i want from my life. except that somehow, i'm starting to become my job, in that way i felt sure i never would.
happy monday. -beatpoetgrrl
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