All of the sensitive contraband is accounted for underneath my mattress. Bebop is a happy happy puppy.
Things are alright.
Some pre-interview reflections:
I'm in the lair of the helicopter parent. The uncomfortably matchy-matchy, fushia lipstick wearing, country club helicopter parent.
The lobby of the Pomona admin office is a scary place. I feel like they all know I'm faking. Even in my knee length dress and grey cardigan. I've even got the fucking headband.
I am a well disguised imposter.
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