Dec. 15th, 2015

cathyrine: (they told me i was goin 2 lose the fight)

Cathy is at a stage in her life where everything feels like something big. Like, going to the store is a big deal when you're Cathy, because you feel like you could get by just by mouth breathing and picking from this one bag of chips that weirdly never seems to deplete. Making the effort to call the parentals for an update is a wild hypothetical when you're Cathy, because the effort involved in sounding like you give a shit about your lame-ass hometown is astronomical. Getting out of bed is fucking groundbreaking when you're Cathy, because. Well, y'know. Bed.

Anyway, point is: sucks to be Cathy right now.

You’d think there was a reason for it. Like, some major tragedy befell her at her prime and rocked her all the way down to zero. But a breakup isn’t a major tragedy when you’re the one who instigated it, and being alone feeds into that Strong Independent Woman vibe that people talk about so much.

See, the thing is, Cathy’s hit a kind of standstill. A semi-permanent standstill. She’s a twenty-five year old gemini (alright, kids, let’s keep it friendly, that information is being released in confidence) working full time at the Olympia leisure centre, which is the kind of place teenagers usually work part-time after school, with too many bills and not enough money and a generally apathetic outlook on everything, not because she’s especially pessimistic but because she’s tired of being any other way.

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CATHY ERHARDT

December 2025

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