I just saw this scrawled on the bathroom at the Melrose Restaurant (I know, it took me less than 24 hours to get my ass there.... I love me some sweet and sour cabbage soup....). I thought the phrase was hysterical. And unequivocally wrong. I am sure Jesus loves peanut butter.
I have spent the entire day listening to reggaeton and I only threw the TP in the garbage can a couple times. Yep, I'm settling right back in.
So it's 3 p.m. and I just realized I have no idea what to do with my life. Career-wise, that is. Am I back to asking the annoying journalism questions that have chased me for the last half year: Newspapers or online? Back to magazines? If I forgo newspaper work, have I failed? Why do I feel pressured to get an amazing job which will thus define me as an amazing, successful person? Will I ever be able to find a job?! (OK, I haven't really started looking for a job, but I am sitting at my computer and I have visited Journalismjobs, so that's a start, right?)
Right as I felt the life-changes come-apart sneaking up and I was feeling overwhelmed by the site of my train wreck apartment and utter lack of order, I did what every sane woman does. I made a hair appointment. Joel seems to make everything OK and feeling cute puts everything into perspective.
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