Once, during a phone conversation, I mentioned to Clark that I'd recently started writing for The Atlantic.
Being a long-standing straight-edge kid, I'd recently started drinking and had found the whole process intimidating.
I'd recently started having casual sex with a friend I'd had for eight years, someone who I held in high esteem and truly valued.
This was a huge attraction for me because I'd recently started my own business, Splaat Media, which offers photography services to schools that are putting on drama performances.
I'd recently started watching documentaries on girls who did financial domination, also known as findoms.
We also decided she was best friends with Lucy, a real girl we'd gone to junior high with who'd recently started doing a lot of drugs.
In an uncharacteristic move, I decided that a guy I'd recently started (and shortly thereafter stopped) seeing might have been friend-meeting material.
To make matters worse, I'd recently started a high-pressure, extremely active new job with very long hours, couldn't tell anyone my secret yet and the "offices" were essentially a trailer park (an underdeveloped, mostly outdoor part of a film and television studio lot) in which the bathroom was, you guessed it, a trailer at the other end of the dusty, dirt road from my office.
It was a bit abrupt, and seemingly out of character considering he'd just recently started a serious relationship that was developing nicely, but it was so funny it was almost forgivable.
"I had been sleeping with a guy I liked, and he'd recently cut it off to start dating someone else.
