"Shower Fantasies" by Alyssa Ciamp


I daydream about kissing boys or success or both. I daydream about getting my Ph.D. from Harvard and thanking my supportive partner who will fuck me later in the back of his car while moaning about how proud he is of me. Of how goddamn smart I am.


I daydream about my casual flings falling in love with me—telling me they can’t go on without me and I indulge one last time but gently tell them that I can’t commit at this point in my life.


I daydream about single-handedly slaving over a manuscript, conducting my statistics in the dark of an empty bedroom, and drinking with someone beautiful to celebrate when it’s published in a journal with a high impact factor. They’ll tell me what an incredible scientist I am and it will fill the void in my chest.


I daydream and nightdream and sleepwalk, hoping that love and success will find me astrally projecting.


It’s a damn shame my work can’t kiss me goodnight.