Filed under: the redhead
I haven’t mentioned this because it’s all together too painful, and because I didn’t want to traumatize all her fans, but The Redhead is taking off.
In honor of this occasion, I’m allowing her to explain herself to y’all, so that you don’t hold her absence against me.
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I guess you could call it a quarterlife crisis. I call it drawing the fucking line.
In a few hours, dear Temerity Jane readers, I’m going to walk out of my office, hop in Pablo, my ’97 Nissan, and drive until I get to sunny California, where, with any luck, I will be able to find an apartment and a job.
Why? Because I’m tired of being treated like crap at work. Because I’m tired of paying almost a grand a month for an apartment in a city I don’t even like. Because the next time I see some douchebag at a bar wearing khakis, a blazer and a congressional ID, I swear to god I am going to commit a felony. But mostly because I’m young, I’m childless, and I don’t owe it to anyone—not my parents or my employers or even TJ—to keep living my life according to some bullshit script that doesn’t make me happy.
I am absolutely sick to death of hearing these middle class, college educated white kids gripe about their lives—overworked, underappreciated, underpaid. Boo fucking hoo. Attention cubicle monkeys: If you’re willing to come in to the office every day for $25K or $35K or whatever the amount, to do work you think is beneath you, then that’s exactly what you’re worth. Surely somebody at your overpriced private college explained capitalism to you?
So that’s all to say that at some point you have to take responsibility for how you allow yourself to be treated, which is why I’m taking a huge-ass flying leap. Maybe I’ll find some sweet PR job out West. Maybe I’ll just bartend and sleep late. Maybe I’ll learn to sew. But whatever happens, I know this: Success isn’t a great job, or a sweet apartment, or anything else that your high school guidance counselor probably imagined for you. Success is living a life that makes you happy, and no one is going to set that up for you. You have to go out and find it your damn self.
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Worry not, TJ readers, I will be back on the internets in short order. Shorter if my goddamned iBook hadn’t died at the worst. possible. moment., but in the meantime TJ can keep you occupied with tales of my biting wit and brilliant wisdom. As Nixon said, peace the fuck out, yo.
