A woman must have money and a room of her own, says Virginia Woolf. But a room just doesn’t feel like enough. I need more.

What have I done with my life? Where am I going, really? I have no credit, my business is a money-suck failure. I’m overweight, so it’s not like I can catch a rich one now to just own me and leave me alone. Those days are long gone.

ROOM ENOUGH BY NATASHA NOAH 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 41

A woman must have money and a room of her own, says Virginia Woolf. But a room just doesn’t feel like enough. I need more.

I wonder why I married him in the first place. He’s a total bore. He’s forgetful and co-dependent. The only things that get his full attention are work, sports, and his little girlfriends. He listens to their problems so that he can swoop in and save their day. He doesn’t pay that type of attention to me any more, unless I force him to.

Actually, I used to mind that, but not so much now. The older I get and the more our arguments proves he’s fallen out of love with me, the more I’ve come to prefer it. I don’t want his attention as much now.

He slobbers and he smothers me. He snor…