A few weeks ago, I reposted a writing practice–topic: Sick Of–by Katie Madges. Katie Murphy commented that she’d write her riff on the same topic.
And so, here it is…
I’m sick of my boss
I’m sick of making excuses for rich kids; they’re all a special case
And I’ve only been here 2 months
I’m sick of the beltway
I’m sick of spending so much on iced mochas that I don’t need
I’m sick of apartment searching, but I’m more sick of the high rents
I’m sick of frowning
I’m sick of the crease forming between my eyebrows
I’m sick of not being able to turn off my work brain
I’m sick of the heat
I’m sick of my dying computer
I’m sick of feeling defeated by the news – Israel, I’m looking at you
I’m sick of being asked, “Have you started applying for college yet?”
I’m sick of wasting so many plastic water bottles
I’m sick of hearing about the engagements and weddings and breakups.
I’m sick of long distance relationships, of not being able to hold hands,of getting two days a month, approximately, to kiss.
I’m sick of people saying things like, “At this point in the digital age…” and “Complete school refusal mode”
I’m sick of happy hour
I’m sick of 25
Sick of wanting to change so much
Time to make this town sick of me
