The Constant Motion of the Young, Female Brain

Oh her?

Yeah, her.

Sure, yeah she’s pretty cool.

Just pretty cool?

I mean, I guess? I don’t know. She’s fun.

But, like, don’t you feel like she’s easy to talk to?

Yeah, she’s a good listener.

But does she give good advice too?

I don’t know.

You think it’s generic, right? Like “Acetaminophen” instead of Tylenol?

I mean, it’s fine. It’s helpful sometimes.

Not all the time??

I take it into account, if that matters.

Like, when people mention her name what do you think?

I think, “I know her.”

Not, “she’s soooooo cool!”?

I guess I would later, just not right then.

That’s not good enough.

What?

That’s not good enough.

Did you know she’s wants to be “soooooo cool” to you?

What?

Did you know she constantly worries if you think she’s funny?

Well, I-

Did you know she is constantly afraid to say the wrong thing?

Why wou-

Did you know she’s craving to be the person you call to just hang out, or talk to about how that person is so freaking silly? Did you know she strives to not talk too much, but still not be too quiet because she doesn’t want you to think she doesn’t care when she’s really just secretly shy? Did you know she compares herself to every other person you have said is “so nuts and fun”? Did you know she constantly wonders if people are wondering, “what’s she up to right now?”

I didn’t-

She’s fine, though. Totally fine. She’s the girl everyone who’s not in comedy says is “definitely going to be on SNL.”

Yeah, she is-

But everyone doesn’t know she’s so young and fragile and anything that comes up about her doing comedy gives her extreme anxiety because she doesn’t think she’s funny? Because she so desperately wants to fulfill everyone’s and her dream, but thinks she lacks every talent necessary to do so.

Whoa, I just wanted to say hi, not make this a thing.

Hi.

Hey.

How are you doing?

Fine.

Me too.