It infuriates me is that there are people who believe that if we live in a precariousness so long that it is called life is because we do not make enough effort. We have looked for this because we are vague, inconstant and idiotic. What really pisses me off is that this situation – which is no longer work but vital – will take away from other things, thousands of other things, the possibility of being a mother. What really kills me is that the most productive years of my life I’m going through terrified. Terror of the bank account, the receipt of the light and the empty refrigerator.

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