“Here’s to the top of the mornin’ to yer. It’s a fine morning here. Rather chilly though. I had a pleasant trip and a good sleep. It seems strange to be alone. Had breakfast 7 O’Clock. “Arno”“
Not too sure what it says on top, I think it’s “Rochester(?), Tuesday A.M. April 20/03“
“I feel like somebody’s trying to land a jumbo jet in my sinuses and they’re doing so…very…slowly.”
Me last weekend. Oof.
“I Am The Foursquare Mayor of This Bar”
Is it just me, or is spaghetti one of those foods that’s a must have for a hangover? I’ll eat it cold, I don’t give a shit.
Went to this weird theme-y bar last night in Bushwick, friend’s birthday.
Mostly my college peeps I haven’t seen for months.
I’ve been reading your facebook status’, they’re very depressing.
Clearly, my work here is done.
But yah, i’m too lazy to go to the waterfront now. So that sucks. Lesson learned?
More BS later.
My heart sinks every time I look at my Inbox and there’s no reply from a potential employer. I start to wonder if it’s the day rate I proposed, the way I worded my email, the way I dressed at the interview. I hold a little shard of optimism that even though they say “by the end of the weeK” maybe they’re busy, and Monday you’ll hear something.
But you probably won’t, so you sit with your eyes constantly wandering to your gmail tab.
I just want a new job so badly, i’m so stressed and I get paid shit. I’ve got loans to repay.
Last night I went out to the bar and ended up staying till closing. As a result I didn’t do much today. I was reading the paper at the table this morning when I suddenly remembered the bartender and his friend teaching me how to throw a punch correctly, including letting me practice. I started laughing thinking about it, but felt it wasn’t the story I wanted to share with my grandparents. Not yet at least.