An explanation of sorts

I have been remiss but to demonstrate my excuse for not posting as of late, let me give you this scenario:

It is Thursday morning. I find myself more tired than usual--probably a symptom of being overly emotional due to boyfriend problems, family deaths, and a new job. By the time I get out of the shower I see it is already 7:30. I make toast, burn it of course. I gulp two extra-large cups of coffee. I throw on an outfit I settled on while showering and decide I hate it. It's 7:45. I rummage through my closet, haphazardly throwing shirts, skirts, pants about the office. I go back to the first outfit I decided on while showering. It's 8:05. I let the last of the coffee pour down my gullet. I reach into my closet, grab my pair of brown flats from my shoe shelf, slap them on my feet and run out the the door, to the train station, to the train. The doors close. It's 8:35. I look down. Fuck. I'm wearing two different shoes. One brown. One black.

Saying I have been absentminded would be an understatement. I have been on another planet, completely ignorant to life on planet Earth. Tomorrow I will finally write the post I had been planning on writing last week. Or maybe I will do it tonight. For now, I am going to make some corn on the cob and go sit on my roof with a beer. I don't care if it is only three o'clock. It is Saturday.

Storm of a different kind

I feel like I have just braved a storm that shook me through, tattered my ship and sails, splintered my mast. Now, still rolling in the waves of the high sea, I must begin to rebuild, repair what I can and abandon what cannot be saved.

It was a rough week. It began with hope, hope brought about by a new job. Midday Monday the clouds began to blacken and the rains came. The morning started with the what-ifs that have been plaguing us so lately. What if you don't get a job? What if you get into a school that I don't? And transformed into the whys that we have been ignoring. Why are you unhappy? Why don't you ever talk to me? Why do I feel like this? The storm exploded as we tried to answer or avoid the answer to these questions. The accusations flew like debris being ripped from the once sturdy body of our vessel. You don't love me. You want to leave. You're giving up. You are too much to handle. You ask too much.

Tuesday, as the holes in our ship allowed water to pour in and we began to go under, I frantically sent out SOS messages to those I thought may be able to help. I struggled to stay afloat. I clung to the weather-battered ship, determined not to go down without a fight, but quickly losing hope. Wednesday, a pale moon emerged from behind the clouds. We began to make concessions, to be honest, to compromise and communicate. Thursday, exhausted and numb we went to work repairing what could be repaired and finding a way to survive despite the damage.

By Friday I sailed forth with a new, timid hope, but hope nevertheless. And I feel I will--we will--be okay.

And the sun slowly fades on summer

I woke up yesterday morning to a cool breeze making its way through the open windows of my apartment. The sky was an incredible aquamarine and seemed to sit higher in the atmosphere than usual. For a moment I dreamt I was in Atlanta, on the first day of Autumn. Of course, Atlanta's cool days never come till near the end of October and I flashed back to present and realized I was in Manhattan and that summer is still high, yet drawing to a close.

Tomorrow, my summer vacation--the first one I have had since 2003 when I graduated from high school--will end. I will wake up at 6:30 AM and take the dog out, climb the four flights of stairs back up to my apartment in a sleepy stupor, put on a pot of coffee, feed the animals, and begin to get ready for my first day of work. Since March, I have bombarded every non-profit in NYC with resumes. I scoured the job listings on Idealist.org and Craigslist and any opening that seemed even remotely in my field received a personalized cover letter and resume.

I began to lose hope on ever finding a job after having lived in New York for over a month and not having had a single interview. As the economy turned further downward I began to consider the inevitably shameful move back to Atlanta where I would beg for my old job back; another failed attempt at success in New York. Finally in June, I got a call for an interview with a national human rights organization. I donned my best suit, prepared my portfolio with writing samples and letters of recommendation and arrived at the interview ready to impress. I was quickly called back for a second interview. Fairly confident that I would get the position, I waited for the call which they promised me "either way". It never came.

Watching my savings dwindle, especially after Butter's near-death experience, I feverishly started to apply to all jobs--cleaning, nannying, dog-walking. On the advice of a friend, I sent resumes to all the major staffing and temp agencies in New York. After months of believing myself to be undeniably inadequate, one of these staffing agencies got me an interview and ultimately a job.

So tomorrow my summer ends. I will arrive at my new office near Grand Central, settle into my desk and begin work for the largest Jewish organization in the states. From time to time I will daze off into a daydream about all the things that I intended to do this summer but for one reason or another didn't and I will promise myself that I will make more of an effort to go out and experience New York. And before I know it Autumn will be here.