She spends every day avoiding the problems in her life always finding and excuse to do something besides what she needs to do. Every once in a while she'll suck it up, let go of her childishness and deal with whatever it is she needs to deal with, but by that time it's almost alway too late and she finds herself at a loss as to what comes next.

This is her life.

Nothing more than a meaningless, mindless run of just enough. Just enough things to do to keep her from getting insanely bored and just enough to make her life a little interesting. Just enough interest in sports to not look dumb and just enough aloofness to sci-fi to keep her from ostracized.

She doesn't feel alive and yet neither does she feel dead.

She wonders if this is the worst fate.