Happy(?) Anniversary

Today I’ve been at my job for a year. I remember the sinking feeling I had last year when I got into this relationship with my job, the feeling like, “Is this the only job I’ll ever have for the rest of my life?” Although I knew it wouldn’t be the rest of my life, I couldn’t imagine being there every day, and a year seemed like it would drag on until I felt like I was 87 and my husband of 60 years had never gone down on me. You know what I mean?

Even if you don’t, here I am, a year later, not married or 87, and determined to marry a man that will perform cunnilingus frequently. Eww although not when we’re old because extra wrinkles are too much work. Anyway.

So what do I get after a year? A cluttered desk, no real raise or review, 12 issues of one magazine and six of another, a million Diet Dr. Peppers, dirty Tupperware, and the feeling that I’ll be here for at least another year. Meanwhile the creative part of my brain is trickling away into the dust and disappearing while I watch everyone else around me grow and blossom and gain professional credit. I still can't pay my loans.

Awesome. Thanks for that year of my life.