My bank account has often sung to the tune of $2 and not because I was going out for too many brunches or partying too hard or because I just had to get away for the Winter.
I’m trying not to feel guilty about missing open mics, taking reruns of Seinfeld over social events, and treating myself. To a box of wine, a grocery run at the organic shop with the nice lighting, and most importantly- a good cry over nothing at all.
Now I love snacks, but I have a certain amount of anxiety presenting food to people. I think it all stems from this one time when I made my friend a grilled cheese.
I started to get used to being here and to the absurd shapes life can take at times. Then it was time to visit home.
Hole in my mouth, hole in my belly, may as well make that hole in my savings account a little bigger and buy myself some lunch.
How do 9-5ers make friends? Kickboxing classes? I am starting to chat with comics I like, but I have a complicated relationship with that.
I love who I am when I’m giving other people advice. I love who I am when I’m telling people my “plan.” I’d love to hook my heart and my ego up to those words and, when I wake up at 4 am, be comforted by them instead of feeling so fraudulent.