Oh my god, I have fallen behind on book installments and now I cannot see the floor of my office, wherever will I have illicit sex with the coworker who didn’t seem interesting at first until he told me he had seen Radiohead at a small pub in Oxford back in the Nineties, and then we realized we both hate coconut and suddenly we couldn’t stop hooking up in the stairwell on the north side of the parking garage and—oops!—sometimes on top of our boss’s desk late at night after everyone had gone home. True story. Sorry, Mom. But, sometimes people in their early twenties lead healthy, normal lives and drink coffee and buy beer and fall in love with coworkers who will end up shattering their hearts.
I was originally going to begin this post with an anecdote about the drive to school this morning but got sidetracked by He Who Broke Me In Half, and then realized it ties in nicely with these posts in general. Because climate change.
