Give Me What I Want Without Asking Me About It

A tunnel in Washington probably. 35mm Porta 200.

Being young is only hard because my frame of reference for absolutely everything is so cockeyed. The frame is only as big as I am old. So, as I sit on what feels like the brink of my life a decision regarding jobs and positions and titles and “money” seems like it will be my end all be all. When in the eventual hindsight of a thirty year old existence as I debate which plumber to call when my bathroom sink causes a rotting mess, I will not be thinking about the knotting feeling that has taken up residence in my twenty two year old abdomen for the last four something months. I will be housing another knotting feeling about plumbing and how to pay a plumber and hopefully homeowners insurance. 

I want the clear cut stresses. The kind where you forget to buy sugar so you cannot bake cookies or accidentally leaving the bathroom light on after you get in bed. I want something easy with an obvious solution–or settlement. I guess if there is something I have come to the conclusion about my two decade and some two cents life span is that no matter how much you prepare, or not, alarms will be set and not go off and running out of gas is easier said than done. So, for the foreseeable future when I get to tell people about interviews with no resolution or title and about how I am constantly trying to move someplace that in some way I feel like is uninviting me to the party, it is no big deal. I get to skate by on pretending to be young and dumb and hot and rich and I don’t have to deal with a sink’s leak and an overpriced plumber to my rescue, yet.