suckers

Five or so weeks ago I left my room in Bushwick. 

For three weeks I drank, worked, and cried a lot.

Two weeks ago I went to New York for a job interview and stayed at Alausi’s place in soho. We all had dinner on the floor and drank beer. I saw an apartment in Chinatown the next morning. The landlady asked me if I was single. I said yes, and she offered me the apartment.

A week ago I worked easter brunch and moved into the Chinatown apartment. Now I live with sometimes up to five other people. Three of us have rooms. My landlady made me lunch while it rained. I’m so happy to be back.

This past week my landlady went to China. Her husband went to North Carolina. I became gravely ill and took the train home. I melted honey in hot water and squeezed lemon into it. I bought a pink nightgown.

These elixirs are healing me, that and advil. 

Today I feel a little better. My throat feels less full of fiber glass. I finished a story.

Tomorrow I will start house sitting again.

The next day we’ll drive up north to see the eclipse.

The day after that I will answer phones at a glass shop.

In a few weeks Ellie will go see the horses race in Kentucky. I want her to wear my hat because it was made for such an occasion. Then I’ll find another subletter. Move somewhere else. I’ll intern, help Ellie move to London, go to Vienna or Portugal. And then what?

I’m such an ends justify the means person that I forget the means are all my life is made of. I always think the future will be better, which is sweet of me. But then I make myself suffer in the meantime because historically it pays off? that’s what the stories told me. Pay your dues. If I accepted my life as is, I think I would be a happier person. Life neutrality. But that’s for suckers.