How to Pitch Yourself On Paper the HUMAN Way (Or, Your Resume: A Horror Story)
“Why won’t you kiss me?” he had asked. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Didn’t he understand what I was going through? Didn’t he have the same worries?! He inched closer. I inched backward. I couldn’t kiss him. Not there. Not with the faint smell of burnt popcorn swirling in my nostrils; the scent of sweaty leather fighting for an equal opportunity to infiltrate my senses. There was suppose to be candlelight. And a bowl of spaghetti. And Whitney Houston’s I Will Always
May 2, 2016