We’re fighting an economy that’s not designed for young people.
My 24-year-old friend called me the other day in near hysterics. She was about to sign the contract for a house she’d bought which, at least for the time being, would cement her in one location — something that filled her with panic.
Sure, buying a house in your twenties is an enviable position to be in. But her phone call stuck with me. Because I get it.
It’s like agreeing to marry someone or getting a face tattoo. It’s that part-nauseous, part-ecstatic feeling of committing yourself to one path, one ideal. …
I’m tired. Bone-tired.
In fact, I’m not even sure I have bones anymore. It doesn’t feel like anything in my body is solid enough — it’s all been replaced by thick, sleepy jelly.
Chronic tiredness has been following me around for months, burning away behind my eyes and turning my joints to lead. There’s no logical or medical reason for it; I sleep well, I take vitamins, I’ve refined my diet, I exercise regularly. All the doctor’s appointments and blood tests illustrate me as a completely healthy, functioning human.
But here I am, sailing around in a thick fog of exhaustion, fast asleep on the deck. …
Right ladies, pay attention. This is some fragile shit.
You think rejecting a guy in a bar is easy? It isn’t. You can’t just simply say no.
Remember: men are not women. Men may seem to have a tough shell, but they aren’t as strong as they look. Seriously. Try hitting one with a baseball bat if you don’t believe me.
If a man realises you don’t want to sleep with him, he’ll tell other men. …