It doesn’t take long to develop. The stench of the fuck-up, I mean.  For some, it’s a near-immediate branding. You leave the womb a loud, tempestuous thing. Or else you’re quiet, brooding, sulking, strange. You laugh at inopportune times. You fail to learn the secret handshake practiced by polite society. 

Being an adult is difficult. Paying for stuff is becoming increasingly difficult. Your job, if you’ve managed to find one, is a joke and you’re still broke. I might just be paraphrasing a line from the theme song to Friends, but it’s terrifyingly accurate if you’ve recently graduated college and