Self Righteous (short story excerpt) writing

…Somewhere is the back of my cider pickled, college mind, I must have known that my life would end up this way.  There was some sneaking suspicion that I ought to be concerned that I didn’t know how to set up a direct debit, attach a signature to my emails, or cook rice without burning it.  I am certain that there were those quiet moments, maybe walking to my apartment over broken pint glasses, or perhaps rummaging through my backpack looking for a pen to take notes and finding only Target receipts and beer mats, or even as I was crouching silently in a pub bathroom, stealing their toilet paper, when I thought “Maybe I should have a plan for after I graduate.”  If I did have such thoughts, I did not listen, I snuffed them under a wet blanket of festival beads and Calvin Harris remixes. As such, I was 28, working a child’s job, and getting in Facebook arguments with my grandfather…

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