So I pull up to school today after having split Yale's coffee all down my leg (yes, I smell like coffee) and am driving his car, the Cavalier, which, while clean, doesn't make me feel all that glamourous. I feel gross because I've spent the morning cleaning up a baby soaked in vomit, changing his poopy diaper, taking out the trash and starting his blanket that is also soaked in vomit in the washer so he will sleep tonight. My skin looks like crap and my hair is ratty. I don't want to be here because I am exhausted (the previously mentioned vomit soaked baby didn't sleep well even when he wasn't vomit soaked) and I know I will learn NOTHING in class. I also have no Provigil to give me an artifical sense of energy and goodwill towards men. I am depressed because I keep reading Facebook status updates about how people are never going to have to be in school again and I searched on the federal/state job database and found several positions for an archeologist (erg, where were these 3 years ago?) and also many jobs in agencies that I could apply for if I was graduating.I pull into the parking lot behind whom you may ask?
Miss Perfect. Her blond hair is perfectly blow dried and she is wearing shorts--a garment I haven't worn in public in at least four years. She steps out of her brand new Mercedes SUV with the confidence of having a job upon graduation.
It's days like this that I remember why I developed an eating disorder.
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