"If I give you a hint and tell you it's a hint, it will be information." --Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle
This is from my favorite book. It's about a plain girl that gets turned into a little old lady by a witch and experiences exciting things for the first time in her life.
When you're a little kid, everybody tells you that yes, you can be a vet/astronaut/comic illustrator/massage therapist. They tell you that you draw really nice pictures, even when you color the all over the fucking page with the brown marker. They don't tell you that by the time you're 24, you'll be lucky if you're doing something you've always wanted to do and feel awesome about it. They don't tell you that you'll probably be on EBT cards working at Petsmart, and that no, you can't live in Traverse City because you'll have no way of paying for your lake house on Old Mission. What the fuck.
I want to eat pancakes for a living, and then use the newly found fat-buoyancy to float across Lake Superior to Canada.
Basically, what I, Pancake, am trying to tell you here is that I haven't had the time/motivation to cook because my lease runs out at the end of April and I have nowhere to go after that. Such moments in life are stressful and frustrating. Particularly when you'd really like the next thing you do to pay you legitimately and to be awesome. Being a pseudo-hobo eventually loses its charm. Charm=lost.
I think I'm going to utilize this Bene Gesserit training manual. I'll use the gom jabbar to get whatever I want out of life.
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