Living the Dream

Let's start our day together at 3:45AM. I start to brush my teeth. The sink is still full of water from when roommate 1 decided to brush her teeth at 11:30 PM. Spit and toothpaste swirl like a minty oil slick. So, I run my toothbrush under the bathtub faucet. I take this time to test for hot water, which will decided if I'm taking a shower, or doing a spit bath and using the dry shampoo.... and cold water only.

I get dressed into a newly purchased black polo from old navy, and some black pants that will never smell like anything other than milk and coffee. My boss arrives at 4:17AM.
By the way? I don't have to be to work until 6:30. But I'm getting a ride in because that $.18 an hour raise still doesn't bump me up to a high enough pay grade to make me feel that uncomfortable while walking.
Let's be clear. I'm walking through some of the best neighborhoods in the city. Let's also be clear, there has been more than a fair of share of gun waving done about town recently, and the lack of people on foot other than the effing crazy set makes me afraid. and I hate it. and I hate myself for being so afraid. I'm always torn between what is reasonable caution and what is unjustified anxiety.

Actually, all bitchiness aside: despite my current shitty living situation- which involves a malaria farm in the bathroom sink- life is not so bad. Sure, I'm blindingly lonely, frustrated, sleeping on a mattress on a living room floor, uninspired, eating my feelings and rapidly losing my soul, but I'm LIVING THE DREAM!


I know it will be hard, but I am not only the proud recipient of a $.18 an hour raise. Take *that* those of you who told me not to go to LA.

Try not to be jealous.

Twice a week I intern on the Sony lot. And I get to drive a club car. And I know a new city. and I'm writing on a deadline and I'm watching movies, and I'm making a start.