I'm questioned on my ID. Life plan, etc. The usual interrogation.
I can go from having an assistant to being one to an internship in which they have already told me I am far overqualified and may even condone stolen moments for the book, but little do they know. I'm qualified for nothing, never have been, I have pages to write, ice to chew, beds to make. It's too rainy to touch the pool and it's so quiet in the countrified setting amid my parents' antiques and neuroses that I don't mind. I sleep next to the dog and tell my brother to buck up. Junior year for him is days away and my sophomore life has never stopped.