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“Always missing deadlines? Fuck yeah. Is ‘Impulsive’ your middle name? Yup! Do you constantly forget to pay your bills, even though the money is just chillin’ in your bank account? Come on, you know you could have paid that shit three months ago. Can you play guitar, paint a still life in watercolor AND oil, and bake a seventeen-layer cake, but can’t remember to move your laundry to the dryer?” Caridad paused for emphasis and Portia simply stared, shook. She felt personally attacked.
“Maybe you’re a lazy, selfish, fucked-up hot mess. Or maybe . . .” Caridad looked around conspiratorially, then tapped her finger against her forehead. “. . . it’s just how your brain is wired. And maybe there’s nothing wrong with that. Maybe there’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Everyone acts like you’re just supposed to find what you love right away, and if you don’t, just do something you don’t love. And if you do neither of those things you’re being selfish.”
