![all my friends are wasted all my friends are wasted](https://images.genius.com/6fecc351f2296b87eef86ba82f37d2c1.1000x1000x1.jpg)
Now, after many years of demanding yet uninspiring jobs, multiple heartbreaks, move after move, financial woes, I’m quite frankly exhausted. I used to consider myself creative - a good writer, poetic, passionate, curious. Most of my nights are spent alone with my cat (cue the cliché). I have a few close girlfriends, for which I am grateful, but life keeps getting busier and our conversations are now months apart. While I make friends easily, I’ve left most of my friends behind in each city I’ve moved from while they’ve continued to grow deep roots: marriages, homeownership, career growth, community, families, children. I have no family nearby, no long-term relationship built on years of mutual growth and shared experiences, no children. I have no career milestones and don’t care for my line of work all that much anyway, but now it’s my lifeline, as I only have enough savings to buy a hotel room for two nights. I have no wealth, and I’m now saddled with enough debt from all of my moves, poor decisions, and lack of career drive that I may never be able to retire. We moved to a new town (my fourth new city), created a home together, and then nose-dived into a traumatic breakup that launched me to my fifth and current city and who-knows-what-number job.įor all these years of quick changes and rash decisions, which I once rationalized as adventurous, exploratory, and living an “original life,” I have nothing to show for it. My most hopeful and longest lasting relationship (three and a half years, whoopee) ended two years ago.
#All my friends are wasted serial#
I was also the poster child for serial monogamy. My 20s and early 30s have been a twisting crisscross of moves all over the West Coast, a couple of brief stints abroad, multiple jobs in a mediocre role with no real upward track. I’m a 35-year-old woman, and I have nothing to show for it. Photo: White Fox/AGF/UIG via Getty Images