Love at a Funeral and Other Awkward Conversations by Sophie Andrews EPBU & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sophie Andrews
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.1 MB
- Price: Free
Silver tinfoil crinkles between my fingers as I stuff another drugstore
chocolate into my mouth. A fantastic way to spend Valentine’s Day,
on a daybed in my parents’ basement, scrolling through Instagram.
At twenty-seven years old, I know I don’t have a great grip on this adulting
thing, but I am trying.
I’m that oft-maligned lost boy and apparent ruiner of all good things.
They write articles about me, make fun of my love of avocados and
inability to save any money for a house. Though true to form, after living in
New York City for a few years, I crawled back home to Mommy and Daddy
to live in their basement since my old bedroom had been converted into an
exercise room, and god forbid we move the dust-collecting BowFlex
machine.
It’s arguable that at this stage in my life I should have more than student
loan debt and a closet full of black clothes to my name, but as a journalism
major and Hellenic Studies minor, I’m qualified for exactly nothing. But
when they told me I could do anything I put my mind to, I believed it.
As a kid, I used to read Rolling Stone magazine, literally flipped
through it with my hands. The same hands that ripped off the covers to tape
them to my walls, and I’d dreamed of working there, writing articles on the
musicians I loved and funny, lucid pieces on politics and what my
generation cared about, things like gun control, equity in the workplace,
flying buses that ran on beans and peanut oil.
The problem is, newspapers and magazines don’t exist anymore. There
are no full-time staff positions, only occasional contract work for pop
culture rags that pay pennies. So, instead of living the dream, I spent three
years as the assistant to a celebrity whom I cannot name because of the
nondisclosure agreement, barring me from discussing the temper tantrums,
shoe-throwing, and lesbian affairs. As if the affairs are something to bat an
eyelash at and not the shoe-throwing.
But the anonymous celebrity gossip and cheap-living hacks earned me a
pretty good Instagram following, almost ten thousand. And yet…
“Cassandra,” my mom calls from upstairs. “Will you get up here and
clean up after yourself? I’m not your maid.”
I cringe at her tone and scoot off the bed like I’m a child being scolded
again. My parents aren’t making me pay rent, but my mom’s made it clear
I’m more or less a guest. I’ve been here about a year, and it still feels like
they’re waiting on me to check out. But no matter what they think, I’ve
been trying. I haven’t even fully unpacked everything, refusing to believe
I’m really living with my parents.
By the time I shuffle upstairs to the kitchen, Mom’s gone. I hear her in
the living room, and I’m happy I don’t have to face her questions about
what I’m doing or if I’ve found any other jobs that don’t involve a place
called Sassie’s Lassies with a micro-kilt uniform and bad fried food.
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