today i talked to a friend and was in awe of how she was doing. she achieved so much in the last three years than i ever did in a decade. Like a mother would do, or an overly depressed older sister — I was, of course, showing off an exuberant, gleeful screech, as it's the first good news I've felt in so long.
then she asked me about my life.
what do i say? an almost thirty with only almost two months of work experience, no money or investments or savings saved up, no stories of travels because of pverty, no social life because i was told to be myself, no friends, relationship lasting over thirteen years with no concrete plans on marrying because of poverty, useless fucking degree and license that i've spent a lot of money and years on, and oh yeah, i'm a 70 kgs 4'10". i'm obese. i should just die tbh
