Bright-eyed undergrad turns into mostly independent and responsible adult, and definitely never puts a $4 cookie on a green napkin and calls it dinner. Dinner would be a baby kale and spicy shrimp salad. Didn’t we already make that jump?
Last night, as the microwave was whirring and the smell of melty chocolate was filling the air, I got to thinking that perhaps we’re going to need to schedule a new launch. Particularly because outrageously expensive NYC cookies are getting to be a really good/bad habit. But also because we are currently on a budget of jobless-with-a-rent-eating-rainy-day-fund. Don’t be in a rush to learn anything about this budget, ever.
You can’t blame me, though. For the cookies. At least I’m walking to go get them. And if you were here, you would understand how I’ve become the resident cookie monster. I mean, Jacques Torres on Amsterdam has its own cookie warmer. Don’t we all need of those?
I haven’t happened to find a place that sells just muffin tops on any of my walks, but I’m keeping an eye out. I like those almost as much as I like cookies. I would bake my own muffins, only my mom’s are always better. And I’m still in the midst of The Year Without An Oven. We’re going to remember to add that to The Required Amenities List.
Getting out and walking around is going to be really, really important. I can tell. Afternoons are also turning out to be a good time to hop on the subway and go see something new. This is not very hard to do. But it’s really strange: I have to sort of force myself to leave my apartment. And then once I’ve left, I feel as if I never want to go back.
While I’m lingering but not loitering, I often see people holding hands. I’ve become the girl you look like you could totally approach and ask to take a picture of the two of you. Not a problem at all. Once I would have been awfully, horribly jealous — but now mostly I just think you’re super cute, and I wonder what your story is.
My new story involves 8am to 1pm job searching, Monday through Friday. If you’re my real life friend, please send all of your texts then! I will send you cookies. Actually probably only one, since they cost $4. At 1pm every day, I stop and make a good lunch of not-cookies. I read while I eat, because this is one of the little luxuries when you’re alone and unemployed.
I read a lot of self-help. That book, Adulting? I’d be more than happy to lend it to you. It’s basically the book I wanted to write. Now I will have to come up with a new one — how inconvenient. Only I’m not terribly upset about it because it’s making me feel a lot less demoralized. It’s making me feel like it’s perfectly normal to idly enter search queries like TWENTY-THREE LESS TERRIFICALLY TERRIFYING HOW. As I said, I highly recommend it.