Sometimes I wonder why we do what we do. I never thought of myself as the type who'd stay long in a thankless job, but I consistently prove otherwise.
At this rate, I could probably become a mail-to-order bride by my twenty-second birthday. God knows I'd love to be treated like dirt by people who don't give a fuck about me.
(This post makes me wonder where all this angst was when I was thirteen--the age where angst was more than normal, it was practically a qualification.)
