As I sit here preparing to detail a deep fryer, I’m finally beginning to forgive myself for choosing the road sans money, status and friendship.

Things are no better than they were a year ago, just less delusional. Instead of preparing to host people I had no reason to be talking to at a place I didn't deserve to represent, I am working at a fast food restaurant. I am making honest money and sweating with the ‘normies’ and the ‘permanent underclass' that I was tired of my new friends referring to like we deserve a corral, a pen, and an abbatoir.

And maybe we do. Maybe that's why I choose them over you--because I'd rather join them, culled under your judgment than helping to build the boring optimized utopia you're all blogging about from first principles.