"try our new beta features to create a more engaging reading experience--" fuck off

why i h8women a brief history of hideous women loosely following certain awful people Lynn was laid off again. the only way to write is to go back to paris and live in attic with no wifi or smartphone or tv or netflix Lynn felt she was falling behind. Her other friends had gotten married, divorced, pregnant, kids, parent(s) die, worked their way up or pretended to have, another kid, couples trips, girls trips, family trips, in-laws, split holidays, and a generally exhausting non-ending existence of all this day after day. Lynn had probably fucked up somewhere along the way, although she couldn't figure out where. And she didn't necessarily want any of their lives. She didn't like husbands or kids or sharing a space with someone or being nice in the morning. But she wasn't where she herself thought she'd be or wanted to be, even though what that was isn't even defined either. It's a vague notion of independent small-ish wealth, enough to never work again and enough to be able to adopt senior dogs with no fear of nonstop vet visits. She'd kinda assumed it would eventually all work out, and she did all the right things. She did unpaid internships and got all A's and networked and gossiped with coworkers and sometimes even brought brownies to work. She didn't do anything wrong, exactly, and the whole world wasn't necessarily against her but how else to explain living in a bumfuck town with no friends and no wine bars, purely because her family had relocated there without her permission and she thought it'd be a fun lark but now she was trapped.