I think I am having a mid-life crisis,
Then again I'm only twenty-three.
Do quarterly life crises exist?
I wish a therapist could tell me for free.
I did all the right things:
Graduated high school,
Went to college,
Got a degree.
Yet I'm sitting here on my couch thinking:
I've got no fuel
As to why me?
Now you could say "Just get a job"
And sure that would be simple.
But I spent all this money to now feel robbed
For a career, I don't have...
Oh great, a stress pimple.
Now I wonder if all that time and money was wasted
On a dream of a life, I once painted
To end up as nothing more
Then that poor girl that once wore
That ugly uniform at McDonald's
With glasses that looked like goggles.
"Dream big," they tell you as a child,
Only for those dreams to be defiled
By all the debt that will consume you and you'll think