At the desk that’s too high for you, in a wobbly dining table chair, you pick at your nails, massage your tight neck, and listen to the pop songs on the radio in the reception room, wondering at and irritated by the constant repetition of uninspired stanzas. You pokes holes in your eraser with your sharpened pencil and glance at the clock for the fifth time in two minutes and stave off tears of boredom and frustration. For someone so passionate and with such high hopes, for someone with so much potential, why have your choices led you to the exact opposite? When will you come across and recognize and not be afraid of and commit to the choice that turns your life around? When will you do something for you?
The phone rings and yet again you answer as though you have the best job in the world.
She will blossom when the time is right.
(Get it?)