It has come to my attention that I am living in a horror movie. I’m fine with this. Really. I had a suspicion for a while that I was living in a romantic comedy — I’m a single woman who’s worked creative jobs exclusively in big American cities, I’m constantly tripping over nothing, and have what I consider a pragmatic and realistic view of romantic love that others find pessimistic. But that’s a bit self-aggrandizing to begin with, and if it were a romantic comedy, it would be a really long, really boring one. Especially considering I’ve mostly dated STEM grad students and engineers. I’ve accepted that a horror movie is much more likely. My only concern is
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