Hello my new (hopefully) friends,
Here’s the truth: I’m 23 years old. Here’s some more truth: I’m scared that I’ve messed up my life before I even started living it. I’m not talking, “Oops! I dropped it but I’ll just patch it up with some super glue.”
Nope. I smashed that sucker up good.
It’s more like “I took an elevator straight to the top of a 110 story building and purposely threw it over the side.” My life is now lying on a city sidewalk, somewhere in Southern Ontario, cracked into approximately a bazillion pieces.
How is this possible you ask? Drugs? Alcohol? Bieber? Sadly, nothing that tragic. It’s just that in my 23 years as a privileged Canadian girl (woman?), I’ve never really decided what to do with my life. I’ve wasted a lot of time. I tried university and hated it. I tried college and hated it. I quit perfectly good jobs that I financially needed because they were just, you know, KILLING MY SOUL. I watched a bunch of reality television. I neglected to get my driver’s license (I also neglected to learn how to spell the word “license.”) All in all, I think I might be a… what’s that called?… how does it go again?… what the French refer to as… fuck-up. Yes. I might just be a bona fide fuck-up.
But if one is to believe the gravelly-voiced words of Leonard Cohen
, and I always do, then “there’s a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.” So I should be headed for a whole lot of light, right? RIGHT???
