In addition to this junk food arrival (can you believe Nick ordered 120 bags?), I interviewed for my DREAM job today and they LOVED me! I may actually get to do what I love again, it’s so exciting. Supposed to follow up with them on Friday about meeting again next week. Then I got an email from a friend who actually knows someone there and wrote to let me know that she — totally not knowing I interviewed there today — had totally gone and referred me for an open position they have. Very cool! It’s always good when the bases are ALL covered, I’m excited to find out more! Feels so good now, like there’s light at the end of this tunnel I’ve been in (example: they forgot to PAY me last week. If that ain’t a sign I don’t know what is).

And Nick got a job today, too! He’s so relieved, starts on Friday. We did laundry today, ordered Chinese and watched America’s Next Top Model. I want Heather’s autistic ass to CRUSH those other little whores.

my daily commute
cleaning out and simplifying my closets
Heroes on Monday nights
ipod nano
windy fall weather
being healthy
working in the meatpacking district
open honesty with my parents
Lisa speaking her heart
“Have You Ever Seen the Rain?”
the cheap NICE supermarket by my apartment
mini-bagels
my new cell phone plan
The Daily Purge podcast
seeing myself in a new light
Samostorm’s enthusiasm
unlimited monthly Metrocard (vs. weekly)
housebroken pets
making lists
my work uniform by Hugo Boss
Limewire
Vixy
all day marathons of America’s Next Top Model
winter scarves
knowing my friends are there
Nick
Nick
Nick

$25 in my checking account
my elevator won’t go to the basement after 8:30pm
a constantly changing work schedule
my dad
late fees
feeling stagnant and invisible at work
how angry/lost i feel
looking extra thick in pictures lately
no more concierge invites
having to asking mom & dad for help this month
THEM being invited to the wedding (but not me)
stuffy sinuses and itchy red eyes
the zit cluster on my left jawline
no insurance
The View without Rosie
them who don’t check in
them who won’t stop calling
the A train on weekends
“i don’t want to talk about it”
still no direct deposit
britney’s hair extensions (for what, sweetie? for WHAT?)
insomnia

I wonder if the people I work with can actually tell how dismal I am working there. We never speak to one another… ever. An entire hour can go by w/o a word between us, tumbleweeds are straightup rolling up and down the space between them and me just like in those deserted western towns. Even my managers seem to approach me like I’m a temp who won’t be there too long. I wonder if it’s in the air, if it’s this thing we can all sense like when a storm is coming. I did try at first but it just didn’t go anywhere, it’s a somewhat sterile group of folks. Truth is, the only people I feel any kind of a welcoming kinship with are the ones who are good at being invisible — overnight housekeepers, security gaurds, engineers.

That’s one of the things I like about working the graveyard shift. I get to fly solo all night and really enjoy the peace of the hotel when it’s sleeping still, before the traffic rumbles everyone awake and the lobby starts to pulse again. For an hour or two I feel like I have freedom to just be myself and work at my own pace, instead of being The New Guy who’s gotta to impress everyone.

Argh, how depressing am I? It’s just like, damn. Overnights at a front desk, like it’s 2002 all over again. Isn’t time supposed to move me forward?

An early morning update. Tired, employed and cohabitated.

Nick moved in over the weekend. Packed up his things, sold his furniture and car to the highest bidder, and drove 15hrs straight from Iowa to New York. He was exhausted when he got here on Saturday night but so happy. We unloaded all of his tihngs from the car and ordered a pizza. We’ve got much unpacking and settling in to do. He brought a microwave, some dishes, books, his clothes, and 2 cats (Jedda and Molly). It’s amazing to me that someone loves me enough to do something like this.

He’s really here. All of this is real.

I look at everywhere I’ve been. The leaps I’ve taken. The emotional whiplashing I’ve withstood.

Tonight my manager (at my new job) asked me not to wear my orange glasses again b/c they’re “too funky” for the company image. I laughed at this out loud — cuz we’re a hip, trendy hotel in the middle of a booming nightflife scene — and I was sure he was joking. He wasn’t.

So depressing.