Updates and downdates (that’s a thing, right?)

Y’ALL.

Ok so update #1, I had a birthday and I moved! Now I’m 24 and currently residing with the hubs in a 1 bedroom in the U(pper)E(ast)S(ide) – see, you’ll learn New York lingo in no-time.

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View from the bedroom ft. thyme plant I may or may not be intermittently forgetting to water – that’s a Drake track, right?

So, let me update all 3 and a half of you on how this nonsense has played out.  We finally snag this place after half the brokers in this city took us for a damn fool, right? And of course hubs snags a job without even lifting a finger or trying, meanwhile my degree-in-theater-performance-having-ass is out here setting Indeed.com as a homepage to try and live.  I hook this job at a pizzeria bakery, which is fine considering I am more than capable of eating my weight in said pizza.  They offer me part-time and I take it because in my mind I’m thinking some guaranteed money is better than no money, and I go to look for a second job to cover the other half of my bills.  It occurs to me that I’m working full-time hours and I say, “hold on, what?” while physically about to vomit up my spleen from standing on my feet 8 hours a day and doing all the grunt-work as the new guy that nobody else wanted to do and have not seen my boyfriend or spoken to my parents in days (yeah it’s a run on sentence, fight me.)  I asked my “boss” to keep the amount of hours but just switch them (I was getting home at 9 PM 6 days a week in a shift I never agreed to in the first place), and I get let go – get this – through a text message.  Classy joint, right?

Also, get you a man like mine (not mine specifically, not mine specifically!!!) I woke him up out of a dead sleep to just break it to him what happened, rather than hiding it or trying to sugar coat it.  He took a couple minutes to process it, and instead of getting any kind of upset, sad, mad, whatever at me, he just said “what kind of a job do you want?” and we cleaned up my resume.  That was that, that was it.  That’s love.

I had this momentary burst of “might as well start looking at cardboard boxes to live in” and the next thing I know I have 3 interviews lined up back-to-back throughout the week (one at The New York Times next week that’s not for a job but just for because reasons and that’s pretty lit too, you know?) TBD: you can bet on some updates to come.  Moral of the story: pizza will never hurt you, but the people who make it probably will.

Even though it goes against everything in my nature, time to move on.

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This past whirlwind of unemployment weekend (Netflix, cleaning out the fridge into my stomach, etc.) has also led to some nice stuff as pictured above.  Hubs and I got into the habit of taking advantage of the warm, summer nights and went for a few walks in the park that’s by our place.  Here I was for days stressing out for days about more or less being alive, and all of a sudden it just kind of melted away.  I worked really hard to get here and I’m not going down without a fight.

P.S. – people who complain that New Yorkers are mean and uptight, you’d be pretty pissed off too if you had to deal with at least 250 people a day coming to a dead stop in the middle of a sidewalk to take a picture of a building or some lights.  Do you not have manmade structures and electricity where you come from??? Like???? Come on??????????

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