Let's start with a little update regarding my new 'weekend' routine since my departure from Highline a month and a half ago. As I previously suspected upon my initial resignation from my hostessing job, everything I estimated happening has happened. It has, in fact, been a somewhat difficult transition to make, going from working non-stop on the weekend to finding ways to occupy my time every Friday and Saturday night. That is to say, I either go out to keep busy and somehow end up getting piss-ass drunk due to the fact that I don't like to eat before I don a skin-tight ensemble or stomach baring top, or I sit home feeling sorry for myself and making half-hearted attempts at being productive. HOWEVER, I've been making some adjustments these past two weekends and finding more of a balance. Let's hope that I can keep it up... I'm feeling slightly more mentally sound than I was when I first quit. However, I must admit that even though I can go out on the weekends now (like a "normal" <--- ewww, "normal" YUCK) person, going out on the weekends is overrated. Weekends are when every Tom, Dick, Harry, and Joe goes out. Weekends are bridge and tunnel. Weekends are boring, 9-5 office jobs. Weekends are not as cool as going out on a Sunday night or a random Wednesday (which is still when I prefer to go out as long as I'm off). Oh well, you can't always get what you want.
The first few weekends were rough, and alternated between me going out and getting obliterated, and/or going psycho as a result, or me sitting home and doing nothing as a result of my plans falling through, and thusly getting anxiety and trying my best NOT to go psycho. I think I'm finally getting better though... last weekend I stayed in one night and was productive, applying to jobs and scrubbing my apartment, and the following evening, I went out and managed to control myself and only consumed three drinks total. I was proud of myself for fighting the urge to go hard or go home, which is my usual approach when I go out.
As is custom, I ALWAYS close on Friday and Saturday nights at my full-time job, which means that I don't get home until 10:30 or 11pm. This works out nicely since my boyfriend is a work all night- it's the perfect opportunity to spend the evening going out with girlfriends or to spend by myself. I have done a lot of self-reflecting these past couple of weekends and am feeling more at peace with the fact that my boyfriend is working at a nightclub and I'm not present. It's definitely better for me this way... I have stopped freaking out over stupid shit now that I don't have to see all of the stupid sluts and hos in that joint. I feel more in control than ever and am taking more pro-active steps in finding a better job and thusly more inner-peace and self satisfaction. This brings me to my next subject...
The job search... AHHHH Yesss! THE EVER GOING, ENDLESS, FUCKING JOB SEARCH!
One would think that after my last experience with an unpaid internship, and after all of the manifestos I've posted about not settling for another internship that does not pay, I would have fully given up on even applying to such internships...
Well, one is wrong. I'm sorry, but when I scour craigslist for jobs, the vast majority of the job fields that I would like to end up have so many postings and listings for internships (many of which are at very prestigious companies), that they are hard to resist, even though I know they are unpaid. It is a never ending cycle at times. I think that the only way I could ever make an unpaid internship work, is if I had a part-time job that made me the same amount of money (or more) that I'm currently making working a 40-hour week, full time job. That said, In order to work only a couple of days/nights a week and make enough money to live off so that I might work a 30-hour a week internship, I would probably end up doing bottle service (clearly this isn't happening EVER... because 1. I'm not tall or hot enough, and 2. Because I never want to be associated or thought of as a dumb slut), or stripping (also not happening... sadly... but I do think I'd make a killing in this profession ;) ). I can't even think of any other jobs that would make me enough money to pay bills/rent with and that would require me to only work two nights a week (well, with a few VERY illegal exceptions *cough* PROSTITUTION *cough*).
So, with that being said, and this is part of my account of my very shitty week mind you, I applied to an unpaid internship with MUSE Magazine... only THE single, greatest magazine in the world. And, go figure, they got back to me and wanted to know if I could commit to working 30 hours a week... for no pay. FML. FUCK MY LIFE. FUUUUCKKKKKK MYYYYYY LIIIIIIFFFFEEEE! Goddammit. If it paid even a stipend, I might consider quitting my full time job to do this internship and scrambling to find a serving job or something just to make ends meet. But I can't possibly do it while working a full-time, 40+ hour a week job. In order to work 70 hours a week, I'd have to live on adderall and cocaine, and the sleep deprivation, coupled with said drugs, would make for a very, very unstable version of my already unstable self. ; ) I can't even imagine...
I wish I had enough money saved or no bills to pay so that I possibly could work for free for a three-month time period. However, that isn't reality. I sadly had to respond with an email stating that I couldn't commit... my fragile heart is breaking. BREAKING.
Why is it that all of the opportunities to get my foot in the door (so to speak) are fucking UNPAID internships??? How can I possibly find a paid writing gig, if I have to keep turning down these unpaid opportunities? Jesus Christ. I want to slap everyone in this city sometimes. The concept of an unpaid internship is fucked. In Europe- unpaid internships are illegal. What is this? A fucking third world country we are living in????
This was just the icing on my shit-cake of a week though. LOL.. 'shit-cake of a week,' - I'll have to remember that one for future usage, I quite like it ; )
Anyhow, I heard from my ex boyfriend out of the blue. I won't go into detail because it isn't my right to exploit anyone online or exploit a past relationship that ceased to exist LONG ago, however, it really infuriated me and enraged me to the point that I can't bring myself to care even a *little bit* anymore. That threw a mini wrench into my wheel...
Immediately following that ordeal, I called my father to talk, and he informed me my grandma was in the hospital....
And than the maelstrom of it all came to a grand finale of being offered a great internship that I sadly, cannot afford to accept.
Oh well, perhaps it will pan out in the end. Kind of like that night that all of my plans fell through and it was only because they fell through, that I was home and able to save a woman in front of San Loco from getting raped because I called 911 when I heard her screaming at a guy who was coming onto her on the sidewalk... kind of like that... it's fate. I was clearly meant to be home that night in order to fight crime, just as I clearly am not meant to work this internship because there is something else meant for my future. (not that I really believe in any of that shit..., but I'll pretend because it gives me a false sense of hope).
Oh man. I at least have many things lined up to look forward to. The most immediate is the fact that my friend called and is on her way over for a drink!!! :D The next is that I'm off Sunday and have plans for a Sunday Funday with my boyfriend. I feel like getting a little wild... in control of course, but wild nevertheless. Nextly, I'm planning a little party to celebrate the beginning of summer. I even ordered invites to send out via snail mail, so you know this shit is legit. Nextly, I am going to plan a mini escape from the city... either upstate or perhaps the Hamptons. We will see. The point is, at least I have all of these great mini milestones to look forward to. And as always, I am grateful to have the support of my friends, my family, and my boyfriend- no matter how shitty my week was, this is what keeps me together at the end of the day and motivates me to keep trying for everything I want in life.
And now I'll leave you with a picture from my emaciated past. At least I am not as poor as I was at this time last year when I was living off a bag of frozen peas and one loaf of bread per week... what is that saying? "I wish I was as thin as I was when I thought I was fat"? Yeah... that describes this photo
