Here’s a comforting thought: while our planet threatens to transmogrify into an Easy Bake oven, the world economy teeters on the edge of collapse, and Scientology is permitted to exist as a viable religion and way of life, there’s a 22-year-old out there who’s bummed out because she’s never been poor. Taylor Cotter, a 2012 graduate of Northeastern University, grieves the fact that just two months after completing her Journalism degree, she has an editorial job, a car, an apartment, and a 401k, none of which factor into the “10-cents-a-word” life she always dreamed of. It’s not surprising, coming from a girl who begins her lament, titled “A Struggle of Not Struggling,” by stating that “like most female journalists,” her only two inspirations in life were Carrie Bradshaw and Harriet the Spy, and it makes me wonder — has Cotter, who lives outside of Boston, ever actually been to New York City?
People entertain notions of a dreamy, debaucherous New York lifestyle that … may not exist. It’s often just that: a dream, a delusion. Places are what you make of them, and yes, some do live “adventure after adventure,” but it doesn’t just happen, like magic — you must make it happen, and fun certainly isn’t reserved for the unemployed. It sounds to me like the author lives in a bubble of bored, boring privilege, like she’s never even seen anything else. Because anyone with half of a brain knows that there isn’t just sex in the city — there is an equal amount of, if not more, grave poverty and suffering than there is glamour and the privilege of luxury that is the only life Cotter has ever experienced. Privilege is just that: fortune, luck, opportunity, and Cotter appears to have it in droves, rueing that she, at 22, has “already had to make life-defining decisions” — by choosing a job over no job? By buying a car? By having financial security? These are the same life-defining decisions that so many people world-over would give anything for the chance to make. So, this is what I have to say to Taylor Cotter: if you’re going to be ungrateful for the incredibly lucky lot you’ve been dealt, give it up. Quit your job (there are plenty of people who would jump to take it), move in with your parents, stay out all night, shop exclusively at Salvation Army. I don’t care what you choose, as long as you don’t bitch about it on the internet. I think we’ve heard enough from you.