“I got a Degree In The Written Arts, which is the most pretentious way of saying ‘English’ that my school could think of. Two internships later, I’m still working at a restaurant. I finally had an actual job interview last week. The website said ‘big marketing firm,’ but the whole office fit in a closet. Then I found out the job was ‘commission only.’ So I’m beginning to doubt that there’s a palpable job market in The Written Arts. And I’m going to be paying off this education for the next ten years. I’m bracing for the worst. I feel like somebody who just realized that global warming is actually a thing. It doesn’t help that my entire apartment is falling apart. Our fridge broke down last week and we lost $120 worth of food. Now my roommates are mad at me because I fumbled the negotiation with our landlord. And to top it all off, my toilet overflowed this morning, with absolutely nothing to deserve it. I just called my Mom for advice. She recommended that I take a walk. I was hoping she’d tell me that the water would go back in the toilet. Either literally or metaphorically.”
