2001-07-15 :: 5:22 p.m.
I realized, while staring into space at Basic during the dead hour between 11 and 12, that my entire life has been one extended cigarette break, interrupted only by reality-induced panic: job loss, no career goal, I haven't saved a single receipt in my entire foray into adulthood, no real plans, I don't understand taxes, insurance, have never ever balanced my checkbook, what's a 401K, etcetera. The obscenity of these facts is only heightened when you realize that I'm nowhere near having it together at 26 and yet we've already named our first-born daughter. Could you just scream? Sometimes, I want to. The soundtrack to my life is a drunk organist.
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