That's right. I have been alive for 23 years, a number of months, and a handful of days. I'm almost 24. 24. I have a college degree, no job, two black dogs, and bipolar. That almost rhymes. Tomorrow I have an interview for a part time job as a barista. And when they say part time, they mean very part time. Did I mention the degree? Second degree in August? Neither of them are in baristaology. If they have such a thing. Not that I'm too good to be a barista. I'm not.... Wait for it...
Actually, it's that I think the only thing I can possibly wrap my small mangled mind around right now is something simple. Something like making coffee (which I love anyway) and smiling. Part time. Then coming home to the dogs (Scout and Lindy) and laying in the sun. Or waking up and laying in the sun with the dogs before going to serve coffee. Thinking about anything else makes me head feel like it might explode.
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