The two of you mill out of the room, grabbing shares of what turns out to be cold falafel wraps (again) before heading upstairs, and you think, dear lord when will this be over when will I be free of this hell is this job what I actually want to do no one told me what it would be like when will I get to help people like I thought I was signing up for instead of being yelled at all day is this what the rest of my life is going to look like I don’t want that I don’t want this I
