I’ve always wondered how it feels to be the kind of person that knows exactly what they want to do in life. I just turned 24 three days ago, I have a job that pays me way more than I deserve, I earn way more than I can conceivably spend, and yet I keep thinking that there HAS to be much more to life than this.

I suppose part of that reason is my knowing that I have little to no friends, nor am I willing to do anything about it. I have about a billion people who like me, and hang out with me often, but friends friends? I’m convinced I have less friends than appendages on a hand.

But at the same time, I strive to be this bitter, sarcastic, know-it-all-annoying-motherfucker that puts people down the moment I hear anything stupid (Gregory House is my master). This is when I came to realise why I have an incessant need to be in a relationship, to strap myself to someone in order to be loved, just so I can hate everyone else.

Here’s a very happy nine-months-and-many-years-ago-your-dad-didnt-use-a-condom day to all you November kids.