I know I've said it in pretty much every entry that has been written since I moved to NYC last October, but Jesus Christ... I have reached the end of my rope. I apply for about 5 jobs on average each day; more when I am home doing nothing, and less if I am busy... but, regardless, when you consider the average number of jobs I apply to each day, that is a lot of job applications that have been going out over the course of weeks and months and the past year of my existence. Half the shit I apply to isn't even a job that I really want (ex: all of the terrible retail jobs I've been applying to); it's just something slightly better than my current shitty job as a server (I am going to need benefits come February when I'm off the rent's insurance....). I am pretty sure I've caught pneumonia in the last week from work, and I am currently running a low-grade fever (ie. I'm feeling crazier than normal), so it only adds to the misery (and the humor) of my situation. The entire thing is truly comical at this point. I cannot even cry anymore; when I consider the entirety of my current living situation, all I can do is laugh. I am truly living a modern day Dicken's Tale (granted I have a roof over my head and food in my fridge). I was forced to stand in the rain for four hours this past saturday in a pair of five inch heels as I inhaled the fumes of a hundred cigarettes and tried to stay dry under the scaffolding of a Western Beef grocery store, all the while getting hit on by a disgustingly, muscular meathead. Now, if that isn't humorous, I don't know what the fuck is. I now feel like my lungs are filled with fluid, and my head is on fire, but at least my morale is high (relatively speaking). I have shit to live for.... regardless of whether or not I have a decent job. Yes... there is more to life than a job. I have come to the realization after listening to Maya Angelou's poem, Phenomenal Woman on repeat one night (don't ask... I was PMSing and the only thing that could calm my frazzled brain was that poem), that I am a woman whom is worthy- worthy of love, worthy of a decent job, worthy of everything I am willing to work for. I don't care if I'm not 5'10" and 90 lbs anymore.... I don't care If I don't go out to the coolest night clubs and do lines of blow in the bathroom and hang out with low grade rockers and models and actors, I don't even care if I work at such a shitty job, because I know that somewhere down the road, something is bound to pay it forward if I keep trucking onward. I am like a modern-day Cinderella.... just waiting to be saved, but not by a man... by a fucking JOB.
It has been a tumultuous couple of weeks since I last wrote (but who am I kidding? My life is always pretty tumultuous, at least in my mind... ;) ). My weeks have been punctuated with random job interviews, nearly landing a paid internship that I REALLY REALLY wanted, getting absolutely wasted (although I'm convinced it was actually roofied) after finding out I did not get said internship, working at my shitty little job about two nights a week (SO many dark days), and going out for drinks to forget about my shitty little job. Yes.... I am living the American dream ladies and gentleman.
Other than the ongoing job hunt, things are good. Things would be nearly perfect if my job situation were better. There is always tomorrow for dreams to come true though. Sigh. Work at Highline has been utterly depressing as of late. The place is windowless, and now that the weather is growing colder, coming out at night into the fall air makes it that much worse. I feel so repressed when I am in there. I constantly feel like I'm someone's bitch when I'm waiting on rude and cheap people... busting my ass for a 15% tip on a $40 bill is not worth my time. I know, I know, I know... I should be thankful that I even have a job. And, I am fortunate enough that I adore pretty much every person that I work with... however, I feel as though I'm losing a bit of my soul with every shift I work at that place (yes, I am dramatic... nothing new there). I have to get out before my soul is gone completely. I feel myself becoming meaner and angrier every day, and I don't like being that way, because that is not who I am (a little bitchy sometimes, but not mean).
On a nicer note, Halloween is quickly approaching, and we all know that I LOVE dressing up. This year, I have decided to be Lisbeth Salendar in 'The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo." I want to be someone totally badass and still sexy.... but sexy in a non slutty way. Plus this is a fun departure from my normal, ultra feminine look. I am stoked... I just need some plans ;)
A little bit of stage makeup wax goes a long way.... What a chore it is to wax out and conceal brows as dark as mine!
Now I just need to lose about 15 lbs (jk), acquire some fake piercings (I wonder where or how I can fake a nose ring...) and get some TEMPORARY black hair dye (you know... the kind that washes out).
A pretty severe departure from my normal, girly self and from the Halloween costumes of Yore.... I love it. Halloween costumes of Yore
