Up & Up, Down & Down

First week of work dramatics.

Last night I went to Dyker Heights with my friends Lyn, Ellis, Garrett, and Mila to walk around and look at the Christmas lights. It feels very nice to be apart of a group. Usually tend to have individual friendships, but not often does it feel like I am a part of a group like this. Feels very nice to picture. Okay sitcom. Dyker Heights is a wealthy neighborhood in Brooklyn, where the residents go all out in decorating for the holidays. To get to this area, we traversed through a half hour bus ride, a twenty minute train ride, and then another twenty minutes of walking to get to our final destination. Traveling from Brooklyn to Brooklyn is always an excursion. All for the love of the game: looking at pretty lights in six degree weather. It was also the first official snow day of New York. This is my first time ever properly experiencing snow. I have seen teeny flurries, and sleet, and sludge. But I have never experienced snow. It’s nice. Feel very off my game right now.

God I don’t feel good. Going to walk to the post office and clear my head. Feel like I have been writing like a cavewoman recently. Smashing the keys down like a monkey. Incomplete sentences and incomplete thoughts and bad grammar. Ugh. Okay close laptop and take a break.

Made myself a cup of tea and my apple cider vinegar shot. Feel better. Have not sipped either beverage yet, but just the act of pouring them into cups made me feel better about myself. Didn’t go to the post office. I put on my sneakers, turned on the kettle, made the drinks, and sat in bed to type this thought process down.

Took a long shower this morning and felt better in the shower. Actually felt like a genius in the shower. Had all these great ideas, and everything started clicking, and I was grinning a big grin, laughing out loud that I had finally figured out the secret on how to fix my life. Turned the water off and the secret evaporated instantly. Started to cry as I stood there naked and wet, back to square one. Turned the water back on but the secret was gone. Kept crying as the water pelted down onto me. I always do this. I get overly euphoric, and then just completely deflate into nothingness. Up then down then up then down again. This is my life.

Drinking my honey, turmeric, ginger, Yerba-mate tea. Nice. Almost out of honey. Boy Roommates keep using my honey. Ugh. Can’t be annoyed by this because I don’t buy paper towels, so I guess it’s a fair trade off. Also I don’t pay for utilities. Also my room came pre-furnished with the bed, the desk, and my adorable green dresser. Okay boys use all the honey you need, I’m sorry. Why did I even have a second of irritation about this? They are so kind to me, and then these are the unkind thoughts I have in my head. Guilt.

Accidentally tracked road salt crystals all throughout the house. Forgot I was wearing my sneakers that have the salt crystals wedged into them from the snow, so now I need to sweep that up.

Swept up the salt crystals and am now attempting to set up my new printer. Have been trying to set up my printer for the past hour, and having a crash out moment. FUCK THIS FUCK THIS FUCK THIS STUPID PRINTER. Going to return it to thrift store. Nice man who works there told me I could. Going to buy a new one. Lesson learned, sometimes you can’t thrift everything. Not nice mans fault. My fault. I try to thrift everything, but sometimes you need the new thing.

Going to buy another HP DeskJet 2855e. I hate this printer. This will be the third HP DeskJet 2855e I’ve bought in my lifetime. I always cheap out on a printer. With the numerous junk printers I’ve bought and thrown away, I could’ve bought just one decent printer.

I have a potentially functional HP DeskJet 2855e collecting dust back in Florida. Just didn’t bring it with me BECAUSE I DIDN’T BRING ANY OF MY BELONGINGS UP HERE. MISS ALL MY THINGS COLLECTING DUST IN FLORIDA. Hate my HP Deskjet 2855e because it is so annoying to use and makes me want to smash it into pieces, but I know it at least works. This thrift store printer does not work, and I’ve rationalized that printers will probably always send you into a temper tantrum, because they’re kinda just one of those things, so whatever. Don’t think that there is any printer out there that won’t make me want to stress vomit. Looking up other printer options, but they all have three star reviews. People hate printers. Universal grievance. Debating between my HP Deskjet 2855e that I hate so much and makes me want to sob when I use it, or the Canon PIXMA MG3620, which I’ve never used but is the same price. The reviews on the Canon are reiterating verbatim the complaints I just made about my HP Deskjet. Which one is the lesser of two evils?

Decided on the Canon one. Fuck it. Something new. If they are both bad, let’s try a new bad. Rewarding myself for dealing with this grievance by adding “Love is a Dog From Hell” to my amazon cart. Keep adding and unadding it because I really want to read it, but don’t want to spend $15 on it. Whatever. I earned it today because I’m feeling sorry for myself, and buying something might make me feel better. Probably won’t make a difference but let’s try anyways. Okay now time to go to the post office.

As payback for my troubles, I am stealing a handful of the copy paper that was already loaded into the printer when I brought it home from the thrift store. I feel bad that I am stealing copy paper from the nice man who works at the thrift store. But then I remember carrying this heavy garbage shit pile the few blocks to my apartment, and feel less bad because okay why did you sell me a broken printer. Not his fault. No ones fault. Kinda mine if anything.

Procrastinating going to the post office. Decided to instead finally hang up the cute stained glass mirror that I bought a few weeks ago. The gorgeous blue & floral stained glass piece now sits right above my cute green dresser. Nice. I’m so productive. Even in my misery I did something good. Good for me. I want to fix my room up. Maybe I will look for a lamp while I’m out. That will make me feel good.

Or will Boy Roommates care if I steal the lamp that’s collecting dust in the living room? What, they can take my honey, but I can’t take the lamp that’s not mine?

I’m realizing the horrible double standards going on here now. Going to repent for my ugliness with the beautiful tiramisu that I will make this week and share with them.

Sold a very itchy wool sweater on Depop. Feel bad that it sold now. Hope the girl who bought it knows it’s really itchy. I’m not going to tell her this, because I want her money, but now that it sold I feel guilty. It’s so itchy and uncomfortable and borderline unwearable. I hate this sweater so much, which is why I am selling it, but I should’ve told her it sucks to wear. Probably shouldn’t have even sold it to begin with. Guilt. Packing it up. Taking it to post office. Bye horrible sweater you’re someone else’s problem now.

No actually I can’t do it. I feel really guilty. This thing sucks. Cancelling her order and blocking her. Could communicate this thought process to her, but I have a faceless anonymous profile so what’s the point. Sorry girl. Not worth the headache of a bad review and a guilty conscience.

Stole the living room lamp. Forgot how ugly it is. Brass gold hardware and a marble base. Ew. Well it’s sitting in my room now. Feels nice to have some mood lighting and not be berated by the glare of the overhead tit light.

Okay now time for post office.

I like that I have this daily errand that I force myself to do. Walk to post office, walk home. Probably keeps me from putting my head in an oven. The pavement is slicked over with thick ice slabs from yesterdays snow day. Shuffling along the path to my destination with mindful teeny baby steps to not trip.

Picturing myself eating shit while carrying the stupid printer later to return it. I should’ve brought it with me to the post office, but I thought that it might be too overstimulating to simultaneously carry both the junk printer and my Depop packages. Definitely could’ve done both and saved myself the trip. Now will have to venture out into the cold twice. Bleh.

Dropped off my packages. Came home. Walked to thrift store. Returned the printer. Talked to the nice thrift store man. He was very kind to me. Angrily stomped home, but then banana-peel cartoon style slid in a goddamn ice patch. Started to cry again.

Home now. Turned on the oven to heat up a frozen meat lovers pizza for a 12:16 pm breakfast cause FUCK IT day is over. Took a breather and turned the oven off. Opened the fridge, took out my leftover tofu and salad mix, and made myself a sensible wrap instead. I’m so mature. I am healed, aren’t I?

Not going to let myself tantrum about any of todays offenses, because I’m better than that. Cutting up my tofu in silence. Lowkey moving in silence. Yeah totally.

My hands are stained magenta and cyan from fucking with the junk printer. First day of work is in 3 hours. Trying to scrub the ink off my palms to no avail. Realized that I haven’t yet spoken a word out loud today. Read that sentence out loud to myself as a test. Don’t recognize my voice.

Eating the rest of my salad and tofu mix. Polishing off the last of my pretzels with this salad. I’m not allowed to buy things like pretzels or chips, because I will eat the entire bag in a sitting. I’m only allowed to buy popcorn kernels, because the extra step of having to pop them in a pot, and wash the pot, makes me not want them until I am desperate. I slipped up and bought a big bag of pretzels last night because I thought it would be nice with some hummus throughout the week. Wrong. Demolished the entire container in one sitting, I’m an animal with no self restraint.

Getting ready for work now. Straightened my hair, plucked my eyebrows, ran a string of floss through my teeth. Took out the recycling. Cleaned the kitchen.

As I began to work through the pile of dishes in the sink, my sleeves got all wet. I took off my sweater and continued topless. Then got nervous that Boy Roommates would both spontaneously come home and see me belly out, tits out, scrubbing at the crusted tofu pan, so I put my sweater back on, letting the wet sleeves get soggy at my wrists. Boy Roommates are both at work right now, so I know that I have the house to myself, but with how my day has gone, I am not going to take anymore chances.

Trying to figure out what to wear to work. Tried every possible option in my closet. My bed is stacked high with hangers and hideous pieces. Do I seriously not own a single sensible sweater? Picked an ugly ratty cardigan that was sitting in my “sell on depop” pile, and my favorite skirt. Switched my skirt for my new pants that are too long on me. Feel chopped. Started to reminisce on the convenience of having a uniform at Gym Job, but then reminded myself that I hated that disgusting uniform. Grass is always greener or whatever.

Doing my makeup now. I have an old lady makeup routine. Powder. Curl lashes. Mascara. Lips. That’s it. I like how my face looks when I powder it and nothing else. Everything else makes me feel slimy and crusted over.

Made myself a shot of espresso. Starting to feel nervous. Why am I nervous to go to a job that I’ve been doing since I was a teenager?

Tried on different ugly cardigans before settling on the original one again. Took too long in this process, so now I’m late and running to catch my train.

I ran to my interview, I’m now running to my first day. Very type-b human. Ran with weird stomping steps, to not eat shit in the ice. Was more of a strange hobble. Made it to my train as soon as it was pulling up to the station. Thank god.

Long ass train ride. Brought my book, but don’t want to read. Have my headphones, but don’t want to listen to anything. Just want to sit here and be anxious I guess. Regret my outfit. There’s no way it took me an hour to pick out an outfit, and this is what I came up with. My room is a disaster from trying on my entire closet for this. Picturing a million different outfit combinations that could’ve been more appropriate. I’m wearing the ugly white cardigan with a purple lace top underneath. My new brown pants that are ridiculously long on me, so I have them cuffed up. Black docs. Grey gloves. My orange purse. White, purple, brown, black, grey, orange. Jesus. Literally what was I thinking. Anxiety brain took over. Feel stupid as hell. The word anxiety makes me think of PNB now, because he would say it every ten minutes. Very anxious guy. Like a sweet puppy. Whatever.

No gum in my orange purse. Don’t know why I switched purses, I never use this purse. Chewing on the inside of my cheek until I taste metallic. Wish I had a cigarette.

Going to sit here in silence for the rest of my commute with my noise canceling headphones on, and try to not have a freakout.

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New job is nice. I don’t think at new job. I stand there and don’t have any thoughts at all. I like the break from thinking. I also get a free hot meal, and a free alcoholic drink with every shift. Okay my interest is piqued. My coworkers are kind. Everyone is kind.

Tonight I had a Lychee Martini and Pan Seared Cod. Wow. Nice change of pace from beer and fistfuls of granola.

Think that this job will be good for me. Hope I will be able to balance everything. Typing this on my train ride home. My eyes feel so heavy. Horribly long day. Excited to lay in bed in my ratty Someone in Tallahassee Loves Me t-shirt, and drink a beer, and maybe eat stovetop popcorn because I’ve earned it. Salivating at the thought of taking myself to Brandy Melville soon. Really want to go to Brandy Melville. Have so much shopping I want to do. Can’t stop buying things recently. Keep finding things I have to have. Some I really do, some I don’t. I get ready and decide that my skin looks bad. Need tinted moisturizer. Okay and if I’m getting face makeup, I should then also get makeup wipes. I also should get a little vanity mirror to do my makeup in then, oooh and an even littler one to carry around in my purse. My purse. I’m due for a new purse soon, I think. Oh I also want a little cigarette case to put in my purse. Also I need tampons. I also want to go to American Apparel, and the cute vintage store by my apartment, and the cute vintage store by pnb’s apartment, and the cute thrift store by Gym Job too. Ugh I have such a shopping bug, I want to buy the whole world. Need a new phone soon probably. Want to buy random shit instead.

Reflecting on my first day at cute new SoHo job. What my life will look like now. Back to the restaurants I go. Told myself I would not do another restaurant again. And yet, it’s a cycle I haven’t escaped. I know I can always fall back on being in a restaurant, so I do. Will I be falling back on this for the rest of my life? Feel bad that I kinda lied to this job, by telling them that I just moved to New York a few days ago. Have lived here since July. I didn’t want New Job to know that I am a serial job hopper, because I didn’t want that fact to make me look bad. Guilt. The people here are so kind, and I lied to their faces.

I should be grateful to have such a nice job, in such a nice part of New York, and yet I feel sick. I want to run away and take the Amtrak far far away. I could. I have the free will. I want to ghost this job and get on the Amtrak and go away, and just stay on the train forever and leave everything. That’s what I want right now. I could. This is a nice job and I should be grateful, and the right thing to do would be to stay, but I don’t want to do the right thing.

Grieiving loss of Ex-Boyfriend. Grieving loss of Ex-Best Friend. Laying in bed and watching old Youtube videos of us when we were happy and loving each other and letting the dramatic tears well up in my eyes and dribble down my face. Keep rewinding and playing the same nice clips over and over. Feeling lame as hell for sniveling and sobbing over expired relationships, when I should be over this whole thing by now. God I feel so pathetic. I want to hide from world and drink and be horrible and then at least it’s like oh her life is so sad because she’s a horrible alcoholic not oh her life is so sad and wow she managed to do that stone cold sober. Now that’s embarrassing. At least if I was an alcoholic, I could blame the mess on the alcoholism and not on my own conscious decisions.

I’m on my period and the holidays encroaching are hurting my feelings. My friends are slowly flitting out of town one by one to go back home. It’s just me here now. Boy Roommates leave to go home tomorrow morning. I had lots of friends in town for Thanksgiving, but Christmas is more of a going home vibe I suppose. This will be my first Christmas alone. I could’ve gone back to Florida, but it didn’t feel like the right choice. My first Christmas not in Tennessee in years. Ugh. I’m in New York all alone, and I am very scared and sad and pathetic feeling. Let me whine. Whining and typing and sitting in my bed in my ratty Someone in Tallahassee Loves Me T-shirt while drinking a beer. Doing exactly what I said I wanted to do.

Cannot be starting the new year off on this note. Jesus. Okay pull it together. Reminding myself that according to a random Instagram Reel, this was the year of the snake, so I’m shedding old stuff that doesn’t serve me anymore, whatever. Next year is year of the horse, ie. growth and rebirth, whatever. I like the old stuff. Why do I have to shed the old stuff? Sometimes I want the old stuff back. Why can’t I have both? Why can’t I have everything, but also nothing? I hope that this is just period brain and not real brain, and that I’m just clouded with period brain thoughts this week. I want my real brain back.

Typing this out made me realize that it’s not a good idea to run away on the Amtrak yet. I have good things going here in New York. Plus my plan was April. I have a plan. April, April, April. I can wait until April. My friend is subletting my apartment in April, and then I will take the train. This has always been my plan. I don’t need to make any rash decisions, and quit my nice job I’ve just started, and run away tonight.

I am going to stay here and be patient and responsible for the month of January. I have another friend looking to sublet in February. Maybe if I am still feeling this pull to run, I will leave in February. I feel better typing this idea out. Controlled spontaneity. Being responsible. I don’t want to hurt the kind people at SoHo Job. It would be so unkind of me to leave them hanging like this. Very selfish. Also just irresponsible. I need a job. I can’t run forever. I wonder if this decision is being made out of fear or genuine altruism. Maybe both. Maybe neither.