Tonight, I bought myself a two-week extension at the end of which I must have a real job and a real apartment or else this city will politely show me the door.
I’ll be spending my stay of execution in a little place called Queens. I visited Astoria for the first time on Tuesday and promptly fell in love and now I’m going to live there for two weeks with a sixty-year-old orchestra conductor and all of my worldly belongings in boxes on the floor.
I’m tired, y’all.
Anna wrote to me in a Christmas card, “If 2008 is as eventful as 2007, you will be: (a) married, (b) living in Canada, (c) the president of something.”
I fell flat on my face in 2007 and not just once but over and over again. I’ve spent a lot of this year facing unflattering truths about myself that I wasn’t prepared to see and it’s been amazingly painful but I feel like I’ve learned a hell of a lot. In the past year, I’ve been turned upside down and shaken like a coin purse so that nearly every single thing that I thought mattered to me or defined me has fallen out and shattered on the floor. I wholeheartedly lost myself this year and it might have been the best thing that ever happened to me.
Here’s to 2008 and whatever the hell it’s going to bring. I’m ready.