Last night I met a kid who went to the same high school as I did in FL and graduated the year after me. We have 6 mutual friends. What.
NYC is such a small town.
[Insert post about how awesome my Halloween costumes are and how much I can’t wait for Thursday and this weekend]
Today was wild. Stuffed my face at our company bagel breakfast. Was given a new big responsibility by my manager, since I totally rocked yesterday’s workshop at the factory. Tracked and worked on deliverables for two different departments. Sat in on a conference call with the heads of our departments and took the wheel to some extent (!!!). Went back to the plant to address and take stock of the hiccups we faced yesterday. Went out drinking with the guys at the factory (and had A BLAST). Chatted with my mom on the phone on the way home. Banged out a document for my team at 11pm so we are ready to go for tomorrow.
And now, time for sleep. #LifeOfAMakerbotter
It took about 4 weeks (I started early) of pursuing the wrong thing to realize what I needed most to get back to feeling happy, brilliant and filled with life.
Four weeks ago, I thought that putting myself out there was the solution way to stop feeling so alone. Say yes to more invites. Go on dates even if I’m pretty sure it won’t amount to anything. Say hi. Make the first move. The moment I start feeling sorry for myself, get my butt off the couch or out of bed or away from the computer and reach out to a friend to distract myself until the feeling subsides.
And it worked to resolve one issue: missing that boy who reminded me that some guys aren’t so bad, only to eventually give me reason to question men again. I still think of him often, but the longing to see him has faded.
But. Three weeks into BMO and this morning I woke up stressed, defeated and exhausted. I was whimpering, for Christ’s sake. Something’s not right.
So let’s do a 180 here. Get comfortable with being alone. Take care of myself. Unplug from social media and stupid dating apps and whatever the heck else. Do things by myself, like go see Gravity or walk around Williamsburg, take photographs and sketch shitty drawings and bake cookies.
I’m trying to do everything with as many people as possible and none of it is fulfilling. So it’s time to try doing less, at least with other people.
I need to stop being so afraid of being alone.
I pay a premium to live in Manhattan, not because I am a snob or a party girl, but because I am not interested in taking ONE HOUR to get to work. The East Village isn’t a black hole. But somehow you manage to make it feel like one. Congrats.
This has been a post mostly to blow off steam. I’m feeling more like a New Yorker every day.