Recently, something very cruel and unfair has been going on. No, I’m not talking about the actual problems facing our nation or its people, but rather something that maybe Hannah Horvath would complain about on Girls.
FYI, if you were annoyed by that reference, you may want to leave now. It’s not going to get better.
In short, many of my friends and acquaintances (male and female, responsible and irresponsible, etc.) are adopting these beautiful, tiny kittens, naming them funny things, cuddling with them, and even devoting Instagram accounts to their newfound feline friends.
However, thanks to restrictions from both my landlord and my parents (my dad recently shocked me with a story about drunkenly squashing his collegiate kitty with a mattress after a ZZ Top concert), I am forbidden from having one. Why? Because it’s “too much work” and “I’m busy enough” and it’s “another life.” Ugh.
If there’s one thing I know, it’s unhealthy obsessions. And if there’s one thing I know about unhealthy obsessions, the more someone tells you you can’t handle it, the more you want to prove them wrong.
Now, I consider myself responsible. There are few things I leave undone. I eat a balanced breakfast every morning. And because of this, I almost spite-adopted a cat. However, after five coffees, eight hours of cram studying, and a bit of bender weekend to make up for it, I forlornly closed the Humane Society tab on my laptop because they were right: a kooky-named kitten to care for would be too much for my delicate sensibilities to handle.
So… naturally, the next step was to attack myself in this dilemma, by mentally posing the question: “*Expletive of choice!* If I can’t take care of a cat, how will I ever be able to take care of myself? Or God forbid, another human being?” Donate to Planned Parenthood, people.
Now, I probably won’t have an answer to that self-absorbed question until I am either thriving in my dream career making millions (maybe with a cat!) or living in a box on the street. However, it’s not the only thing I wonder. Here’s a list of some more entitled, stereotypically-millenial, soon-to-be dated, very 2017 questions I find myself asking:
“Is it completely necessary to wear a bra to a job interview?”
“Speaking of nipples, is it appropriate to tan topless if you’re not in France or like super rich?”
“Speaking of nudity, would it be trashy to put up artfully naked photos on Instagram if like, a photographer took them?”
“Do I need to change my Twitter bio from ‘garden hoe, future mob wife’ before I attempt to enter the workforce?”
“Also, should I change my Twitter cover photo from a picture of Oprah holding tomatoes?”
“Should I just put my Twitter on private to avoid these issues?”
“But what about the retweets?!?”
“Do I really want to work someplace that doesn’t get my sense of humor, anyway?”
“Hypothetically, if marijuana is legalized on a national scale, will employers still drug test?”
“Surely not in a creative field?”
“Do I really need a ‘job’ anyway?” Just kidding, I absolutely do. Please hire me.
“Is *ignorance* really bliss?” *pretending not to hear my car scrape on speed bumps
“Approximately how many sweet hours of life have I wasted watching Tasty videos of recipes I’ll never make?”
“Has unknowingly hooking up with a Trump supporter made me a worse person?”
“If not, would doing it again make me a worse person?”
“Should I be as real-life concerned about the subject matter of the Handmaid’s Tale as I am?”
“If it actually happened, would I be a handmaid or a Martha?” I probably shouldn’t joke about that
“Why aren’t more people following me on Tumblr?”
“Is it concerning that I find American Psycho as hysterical as I do?”
“Can I wear a beret in public without getting Pink Panther references all day?”
“Would spending dinner money on Vogue a la Carrie Bradshaw actually ‘feed me more’?”
“Speaking of Sex and the City, is Chris Noth single?”
“If he is, would it appropriate for me to call him Mr. Big once we start dating?”
“In case things with Big don’t work out (they rarely do) Is there a way for me to live a fairly metro lifestyle and still be happily married to Jim Hopper from Stranger Things?”
“Also, is David Harbour, the actor who plays Jim Hopper from Stranger Things single?”
“Does my obsession for older men say something larger about my psychological stability? Probably, tbh
“Does anyone actually care that I’m a Pisces sun, Scorpio moon, and Aquarius rising with a lilith in Leo?” Yes, duh.
“Does the fact that I scored 11 points above average in narcissism on that one personality test actually mean anything?”
“Who wants to hear about the dream I had last night?”
“Is there an age where it becomes inappropriate to have Christmas lights inside the home?”
“Will my future children call CPS on me if I only make them scrambled eggs for every meal?”
“Can I start getting paid to promote Glossier since I already do it so much already?”
“Okay, do I look more like Meryl Streep or Owen Wilson?” Probably Owen, but I got told I looked like Meryl Streep in FIFTH GRADE.
“Can I say ‘no’ when people ask me to take ‘candid’ photos of them without being a bitch?”
“Can I say ‘I’m 1/16 Cherokee’ without being annoying?”
“What will I do if I find the love of my life and he doesn’t think that A Knight’s Tale is the best movie ever due to its flawless execution of action, comedy, drama, and romance all in one film while simultaneously having Heath Ledger and an amazing soundtrack?”
“Is it pretentious to say that I like modern art better than classical art without a real reason why?”
“Is it a sin to lie to get out of a group project meeting?”
“Does popcorn for dinner count as a ‘home-cooked’ meal?”
“Is it still a ‘healthy snack’ if you eat a huge bowl of it in one sitting?”
“Is butter a carb?”
“How can I become friends with every actor from Broad City in like, a natural way?”
And finally, “Is Kylie Jenner actually pregnant?”
Okay, I know that was rough. Thanks for hanging in there. If you’re looking for more reasons to hate/love me, you know where to go next. x