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


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.

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.


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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