In between paying off my student loan (Freudian slip - mistyped that as "load") and trying to find a gym (again, mistyped that as "guy") and applying to jobs, I forgot to be heartbroken. I don't know why I'm not sadder about breaking up with my first semi-serious boyfriend and constant companion since I moved here, but I'm not going to question it. I feel great, but there's also an overshadowing hesitancy that this could all come crashing down on my head at any moment. In the meantime, I will walk alone and explore and work at a radio station and maybe audition for a play and get a real job. Chronicle Books is hiring a publicity assistant and a marketing assistant and I'm going to apply for both this weekend.
This place is weird. I see transvestites and pimps (legit ones, if you can call pimps legit - not just frat boys dressing up for Halloween. I never knew people really dressed in those calf-length fur coats with a red-plumed hat) and human waste on the sidewalk walking back from work. Then again, today was strange in general. Once I got off the Muni the streets were nearly deserted compared to the normal 8:45am rush. Everyone is still savoring the plush glow of Christmas, I suppose, wrapped in a blanket watching new dvds or reheating a feast of leftovers that bloom deliciously from tinfoil buds.
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3 comments:
I like that Blague re-vamp! It's not blah, G; especially because of its hammy, Arrested Development flavour. Yum. The fact that you call it pop-pop tells me you're not ready.
Yummy, hot ham water. PS, if you can't get a job at chronicle, Maybe you could find that pimps number and see if he would hire you. Hear the pay isn't bad. (Can't wait for new years WHATTTTT!)
if trannies and fecal matter dont cheer up the unemployed blues then i dont know what does
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