I was raised with all the correct tools

resources, books, experience. 

Yet, I struggle. 

Struggle to realize I schedule my own doctor's appointments,

swipe my own card at registers,

Pay for my own gas. 

No one ever explained how hard this would be.

Just when I thought everything was going great,

Rent is due.

Where is my check?

How can I go out to eat with Pam?

Or shopping with Lisa?


This poem is about: 


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