I now understand why so many people hate their lives, she thought while staring at a green filing cabinet and drinking a lukewarm diet coke, on its way to flat. Is this the end of my life ? she thought. Is this what happens to all adults when they are forced into a dress shirt, a tie and a cube. Does everyone fight it at first ? Maybe. How long does it last before I surrender my fluttery soul to the horrible sameness that is life from 9-5? Do I become one of those dreaded people at parties who insist upon boring the shit out of everyone else there by telling them what it is they “do”? I don’t care what you do. Isn’t it all the same bullshit in different packages anyway? What are you, who are you, what do you dream to be? Do you remember?