Your Job Is To Live

If you don’t love the Golden Girls, then that’s your problem. But if you do, then you know the value of living with girlfriends—the Dorothys, the Roses, the Blanches and Sophias. Dorothy with her sarcasm. Rose with her St. Olaf anecdotes. Blanche with her libido. And Sophia with her straight up savageness. Each personality was quite different, and yet, they formed a bond that television viewers admired and identified with; sometimes our best friends are those who don’t claim to be like us. Instead, they compliment us. Since we were 14, my best friend, Erica, and I used to joke that we, too, would retire together in Florida much like the Golden Girls. Someday we’d live together in Florida with amazing tans, palm fronds waved over us by handsome, oiled men in Speedos, drinks in hand and big sunglasses hiding our fair faces while we laughed and drank in the golden brilliance of the coastal, Florida sun. This is a dream that we’ve believed in for a long time—through broken relationships