Come On, Feet

Things are starting to look up for me, anonymous Internet. I have successfully unpacked all of my belongings (which consist of books, books, books, clothes, clothes, a wok, coffee cones, and teapot) and have been lazily coexisting with my new roommates, le stinky boyfriend included. It’s been a nice break and starting over feels phenomenal. I have never lived outside of Michigan before and I feel more out of my element than I maybe (probably) let on sometimes.

EXAMPLE SO YOU KNOW THAT I AM SERIOUS: when I go to a bar… even though I usually just want whiskey and ginger ale, lezbehonest… I have no idea what to order. I don’t know the Maryland micro-brews like the back of my hand! I don’t have a favorite stout or IPA from a certain place and I never knew a person to drink Yuengling until I got here (AND I just had to Google how to spell the damn thing). I don’t want Baltimore bartenders to judge me. But why should I give a shit? Oh, but why does anyone ever give a shit?

Instead of just growing a back-bone and picking something to drink when the aforementioned intimidating bartender(s) ask, “Do you want something to drink?” I squeak, “I don’t know.” What? I hate people like me.

In other news: I had a nice interview at a great restaurant today that seems promising. I will be going in for a “working interview” sometime next week where I will shadow someone else and hopefully everyone will decide that they like me enough to hang out/work with me 30-40 hours a week. I’m pleasant at work and I like working, so I’m more excited than nervous, which is superb.

HOWEVER, my writer’s block has been a dark lady beast of the night that will not let me accomplish anything whatsoever. It is no fun combating writer’s block while searching for employment and learning my way around a new city. It is no fun combating writer’s block, ever.

Blah blee bloo blah. Writing this blog makes me feel way too self-important, but there it is. Here you are. Where am I?

Tomorrow is Saturday. I’m going to brunch and I’m going to get an Irish coffee and get my writer-girl dress and blazer on. Productivity and creativity are the names of the game!

Come on, feet.

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