Most amusing aspect of the day

Is that later, I will probably buy underwear from Duane Reade instead of doing laundry.


Also I’m not sure if my obvious distaste for my lifestyle has become palpable in my highly occasional entries, but seriously, I hate being an (even broker than I once was) student all over again. New York sucks enough even if you can pay for everything and don’t have to study.

Most likely I will either relocate seconds after finishing this degree, or just actually have a job and money again and then go more happily broke, to pay for laundry in the building.

///END RANT///


Do things in this order: go into student loan debt with the aim of landing a well-paid job that enables you to finally afford to pay for the therapy and vacations you will, so, SO, desperately need when you’re done with all of it.

Capitalism: If it ain’t broke, someone will break it for you and send you the bill.

Scattered Thoughts

I’m experiencing extremely high occupational/study-related stress levels for maybe the first time in my life, undoubtedly due to the season. Like I’ve been busy but I’ve never been Capital B Busy as in the only time you are done being the places you have to be and doing maybe 1/2 the stuff that needs to be done is when you lay your head down at night… and I am NOT even talking about extracurricular activities or seeing people, which LOL is not happening. Needless to say I am figuring out as I go along how to cope.

Tonight that took the form of — leaving work early, skipping my evening class, and eating jelly beans salad and “Cheez” on crackers for dinner after lying in bed for TWO FULL HOURS reading reviews on Amazon of the Sister Wives tell-all autobiography. And to be honest most of the reviews just said the same thing over and over (this book kinda sucks,) yet I read like 25 PAGES of them. Why even. I think I was too lazy to open a new tab.

Basically the version of me that is tired and stressed gives zeroO f*cks about what goes down in my spare time, like my amount of caring is directly proportionately inverse to the amount of painstaking hours i put in at school/work as a means of recalibration. Like, think of one of those golden scales with the ball o’ stress on one side and a single container of Easy Cheese on the other, balancing perfectly.

As a parenthetical, I was renown at sleepaway camp for consuming Easy Cheese at too high of a volume (which is to say, “ever,”) and in wholly unacceptable ways. All of which is my roundabout way of saying that the wway I ate it was straight from the nozzle, deposited in little flowers directly onto my tongue. Because F a cracker, the middleman just distracted from the good stuff. And good it is. At age 25.8 let’s just finally admit that I was so, so right.

Me vs. You (for almost-26 year olds)

You: Take-out Ramen from a trendy Japanese place
Me: Spaghetti with alfredo sauce from a jar dumped on top

You: Graduate School
Me: Undergraduate school… again

You: Drinks after work
Me: Homework after work

You: Vacation !!
Me: Riding the subway somewhere

You: Engagement photo session posted all over the Internet
Me: Articles by angry social justice people posted all over the internet

You: Planning a wedding
Me: ………………..

You: Getting a dog
Me: Petting a dog

I’m making very, very…. VERY…… little progress.

My current job could also be called, dressing up fancy and using Excel to a quite discerning degree

AnDdD not worried about what this means in terms of the rest of humanity.

A funny anecdote is that I do remember once asking as a kid, “what is it that people spend so much time doing in offices all day?”

Now I know, for what it’s worth.

70 plays

this is actually just one of the greatest songs ever.

old Broken Social EP.


I’d do a LOT to procrastinate studying.

Some days I think I’ll write again, like for REAL when I used to spend hours, and it’s mostly when the train goes over the Williamsburg bridge in the evening. That would be nice, I think… I have so much to say, inside, somewhere past a self-imposed writer’s block… But the other half of me always locks it up because I’m busy.

I just want to promise I am better when I have time and space and music and like, Time. To pursue things creatively. And the space to air it all out.

It’s so sad that that is not so easy in this life, and it’s also kind of sad that I’ve found the perfect ways in which to “sell out”. Interests translate, if clunk-ily: perfectionism in grammar and interest in complicated rhyme schemes becomes perfectionism in numbers and interest in complicated tax code. The need for colors, textures, sounds, and beauty becomes cooking as decent a dinner as you can come up with that night.

I’d love the time to do other things, but as a student and part-time worker, that is not a luxury I have at the moment.

New friends that I make at college are shocked about 2 things: one, that I have a degree already (what? why are you back). Also, that I’m 25, which isn’t surprising (see: facial-hair free).

I wish it were simpler sometimes, and that I still lived upstate working part-time hours as a babysitter and whiling the time away on a thesis and theater projects. I wish I could walk through the city smoking on a random weeknight, going to whatever bar a random friend had invited me to earlier, knowing I didn’t even have to wake up in the morning because I had a 5 o-clock shift the next day.

But it’s really not right for me, I remember. TOTAL freedom - the absolution from a career path included - would have driven me nuts in the end. So I pre-empted it just in time to not completely hate myself over a lack of direction.

Freedom: At least it’s always there. Vacations: at least they will be taken someday. And finally a day will come when your average weekend will just be a weekend because school is finally out.

And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be in the arms of all I’m keeping here with me
Sylvia Plath (via incorrectsylviaplathquotes)