My intern accused me of being jaded. How can you not be jaded after doing something for 30 years. Then again, I’ve been jaded since the sixth grade. I knew then that life was predictable and wearying. I could tell what every teacher was going to say before they said it. I knew that nobody meant what they said. I knew that I was always going to be too sensitive and angry and sentimental and sorrowful. True excitement always seems manufactured to me. Happy people make me nervous and jealous if I thought it was real.
Are you jaded?
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