I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning, I Still Have a Balustrade to Finish, Fucking Kill Me

I’ve dated a disproportionate number of architects.

I used to think that there was something about them that I found attractive: a constant awareness of places and space; a way of looking that is both holistic and attentive to detail, both systematic and creative; a continuously updating, playful, multidisciplinary curiosity.

I’ve since realized it’s the other way around: it comes from them rather than me. With their horrendous working hours, shitty pay, and mistreatment from clients and bosses, only an architect has such a miserable outlook on life that I start to seem like an attractive prospect.

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