The phrase ”On the eve of Thanksgiving” reminds me of Survivor Series. Lex Luger did a Thanksgiving PSA-ish thing one year. That was before he went crazy and killed his wife. Shut up. This was like, 1994.

It is freezing out, but I was mildly out of it this morning, and did not notice it on my walk to the train station. I do love that train from Bloomfield goes straight to Penn Station so I don’t have to bother with the crowded PATH. Seriously, it’s a tiny, little thing that just makes my joyful. And uninterrupted morning reading time is always lovely.

I always walk to work from 33^rd, but this morning it was just to cold to make it 20 blocks in a thin, short-sleeved shirt and a not-very warm coat. I need to get a winter jacket. There is no way I’m taking the subway all winter. I wish that I were tall enough to wear a long coat, because they always look so nice when I see them on other (taller) woman. I suppose if I wore heels ALL the time, it might look acceptable, but I certainly can’t walk 40 blocks every day in stilettos.

I’m currently bitter because an email just went out telling us we can leave at 3. This would allow me to get to O-Town at a sane hour, and have plenty of time to bake pies. Then Man-Who-Wants-To-Take-Over-The-World-With-Spreadsheets smarmed over to my desk and informed me that I have to stay till 5.

WhyWhyWhyWhyWhy? On the day before Thanksgiving. When there is NO work to be done. And everyone else in the world has a half-day. I swear, Smarmy really is ruining this company for everyone. And he’s not even MY direct supervisor. He’s a Higher Up who has adopted me as his own personal favorite go-to girl when he wants things done. I should never have proved myself to be so fucking efficient. The traffic is going to be horrendous. I’m thinking I should just take the train to Radburn and make Brenty pick me up, instead of risking the bus to Oakland and a cold walk home.

And randomly: sitting at work this morning, I realize I am wearing this same rose-colored turtleneck when I was having dinner with Brenty and Jon the night before Thanksgiving last year. (Yes, I remember everything.) That was the night I teased Jon that I had found inner-peace, and it wasn’t that far off from the truth, and after dinner we went to his house, and he cooked dessert, and the three of us sprawled out on the couches and watched TV, like we used to do our senior year of high school, and I just felt so happy, both about everything, and being there with them. It’s no secret that I love those boys, and Thanksgiving is as good a time as any to express how grateful I am that I have them in my life.

I’m such a sap, but whatever, I know I have a lot to be grateful for. But that’s a second-annual entry that I’ll save till’ tomorrow. For now I will continue to drink really bad (but free!) coffee, and take notes on Russian history and be bitter about being stuck at my office.

Things are very decent. I am, at this time, very aware of “a year ago” and I am so, so, so thankful that anything going on now is NOTHING like that. That was so horrid.

Right now things are stable. The job is very good. I’m scared of the GREs because I am struggling with math that I haven’t looked at in 6 years, but I know the GREs will be alright. I am very aware that I will be “HERE” for about another year. And I am actually quite okay with it. I have a job that I don’t hate at all and it pays my rent. I have co-workers who amuse me, and provide a semblence of a social life for a loner like myself. I like it this way.

I still can’t believe I’m here. I’m in New York with a job and a place to live. Life is good. Drama sometimes, confusion prevelant…but still good. Some boy may not have any clue I’m alive (Grr, not this again) Meh. It’s life.

Since I have acquired a full-time “real” job and will soon be living “across the street” from NYC, I should practice saying, in an effected manner “I’m a writer, man, this is just my daaaaaay job.” Of course, then I’d have to slap myself for dropping into pretentious hipster mode. Anyway. My “day job” is nothing short of amazingly perfect.

Only eight more days of annoying commute!

Nothing of Particular Interest

Whine. Not Wine. Which, Come To Think Of It, I Could Use

Thank God I’m going to Saratoga on Saturday. I need to check in with someone who knows me – someone who wants to know me – and remind myself of things I have a tendency to forget when I’m all alone in O-Town.

There are people who never fail to amaze me with their awesomeness.

In other news: “Almost” by Bowling for Soup is my new favorite song. It’s so cute and catchy and unrequited, and so much better than “1985″ , and I am finally reading Wittgenstein. At work. While i’m getting paid.

And Just Like That

A new job has been procurred

So I’m quitting my job. After working 35 hours last week I was completely burned out, and couldn’t even concentrate on writing a paper that desperately needed to get written. There’s something unappealing about randomly crying over nothing because I’m so stressed, not eating properly and being tired all the time. Plus my job was making me increasingly bitchy and intolerable as a human (as if I’m not bad enough already)

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