The baby onesie I’d been wearing when the orphanage found me also had “1/23/2080” embroidered on it in gold stitching. They thought it was my birthday, which meant I was an Aquarius. An ancient magazine at the library said I had an independent, loyal, quiet, and easily distracted personality. Apparently, I was distracted by smutty drawings of male genitalia. I’m going to hell.
