My Passive-Aggressive Yoga Instructor Roommate With No Serenity has gotten in the habit of waking up at the same time as me. When I get in the shower, he then turns the faucet in the kitchen on and off giving me a Russian Roulette bathing experience.

I’ve lived there for a little over three years. I’m one of those people that can endure a lot.

Enough about him, I’m currently on my way to work. It’s Saturday. One of the nicest days we’ve had yet so far this Spring. I’m not thrilled about going. I work at a thrift store. I’m stuck at a register all day. Essentially, I’m a shopgirl.

It’s the biggest deal if I have to go to the restroom because someone else has to step in for me. I usually try to run and get back with hopes that no customer will be at the counter when I get back but inevitably there’s always one. I have a small bladder, I have to go to the bathroom a lot. Sorry… not sorry. One of my many gripes about working.

When it gets down to it, I feel trapped behind that register. Having turned 30, went to boarding school, and have a college degree. There are co-workers (some I adore and some I don’t) who don’t have degrees yet (they’re either in school or it’s on the agenda) and they make more money. Even the money they make isn’t a live-able wage. It just makes me feel even smaller behind that counter.

“Hello! Someone! Anybody! Look at me over here! I have a Bachelors, I’m creative and smart and obviously don’t belong in this corporate environment where we are pushing sales goals like plebs from ‘Ye Olden Days.’ Economics suck. I just want to write and draw and daydream. Yes, customer, you! Yes you! Please pick me up over your shoulder and take me away from here to a place of financial security. That way I can move out of that godforsaken living situation and escape that counter which I have dubbed, ‘Repunzel’s Tower.'”

My quality of life would improve which is all I’ve ever really wanted. And maybe I’d be able to finally buy a new iPhone, iPod, and MacBookPro. Go back to school (possibly become Academic?). Join a gym. Get a trainer. Get abs (I had one ab one time after I had a cold and coughed so much for a week. It was the best cold ever.). Get a Basset Hound. Become bicoastal. Get a passport. Get a map. Throw darts at the map. Visit those places. Take pictures. Post them on social media. Get likes. Do it again. Write about my experiences. Make little movies about it. Draw pictures of the characters I meet. Sell them.

Okay, I’m at my stop. But something to think about.

I mean, it’s really not much to ask.