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the whole time that i was in college, when stress was tearing into my insides, i kept telling myself that things would be better once it was over and all i had to do was go to work. then work could be work and i'd come home and not worry about a damn thing--there's no homework for a job. no stress. pretty good.

then it actually happened. except now i have two jobs, and work consistently throughout the week. i have ample money to spare for the first time that i can remember, except i don't really have any time to spend it. i don't see my friends except in passing moments over the counter at hyperion. sometimes we make plans to hang out later, but by the time i get off i'm too tired to want to go out and i have to be back at work the next morning anyway so why bother? i hate turning into one of those people that complains about work all the time, and i shouldn't complain because my jobs are actually pretty great, for jobs. they're just draining everything out of me.

and in those free moments where i'm not wearing a black apron and thinking about lattes or bussing tables (depending on which corner of william street i'm on), i'm thinking about what the fuck i'm supposed to do now. i've promised myself to move to richmond, which i'm legitimately excited for, but then what? i'll go from 2 jobs to none, and my ample money will disappear right quick. then all of these new things keep popping up and punching me in the face and i have to reconcile them with the existing shit. i just want to be quiet somewhere and read a book. i'm so tired.

then there's my friends that are leaving/have left. dudes that i've secretly relied on to stand me up for 4 years are moving away, and i'm stumbling hard. granted, they're not dying, and everyone knows how i'm always up for a roadtrip, but the idea of not being able to bike to the other side of town for some cigarettes and some crucial porch-sitting really breaks my heart. i don't know what i'm going to do without these dudes, and i'm trying not to think about it so i don't cry. that seems to be the name of this post-collegiate game: escapism. we'll see how it pans out.

as exhausted as i am, though, things aren't bad. my life is actually pretty good if i'd just stop for a second and breathe and not let myself get overwhelmed by things that i can really just brush off. i'm on the cusp of new opportunities, and while scary, that's really fucking exciting. i'm moving to a new city with my cat and maybe some terrific friends, and i have no obligations to anyone but me. maybe i'll be a real writer or something. and then there's this kid that i know, who spells his name phonetically (which i appreciate as a bachelor of english), who sometimes spends my (and his) rare days off with me and has me addicted to text messaging at 4 in the morning. that kind of stuff reminds me that shit is alright. i'm still optimistic, even though i desperately miss hanging out and pretty good.

most days i smell like espresso and tomato sauce. i forget to shower a lot.