The last couple weeks have been a whirlwind of nothing much really. I'm kidding, it's been great. Walking to work, venturing to Cleveland for a wedding, seeing a live taping of SNL, and doing a lot of thinking and observing. It's weird to not be in a college environment where my mind is constantly stimulated by new theories, and so I find myself falling into a familiar rhythm that I think a lot of "working" people experience. Note to self: cultivate life OUTSIDE of work, lest you will turn into a stomping vampire in high heels with ungrounded feelings of grandeur and a sad caffeine addiction. Not everything is bad, though. I still dig walking through the park, and playing in an indoor soccer league on weekends. Maybe that's why I've been a bit off: I got hit in the face last week in my game, suffering what I thought to be a minor concussion but what the ref called "just a bump." Hmm. Hypochondriacs prevail, evidenced by my recent google searches of swine flu symptoms, aftermath of concussions, and homeopathic treatment for nasal congestion. Wow, does living in New York really have to increase my neuroticism? Yes.
But there are gleeful aspects of this all. I'm meeting really cool people at my internships, and experiencing little subcultures of the city. On November 8th I shall see my husband-to-be Andy perform at the New York Comedy festival. In the meantime, I'll be working on my own sketches for next spring. Is it weird I can't wait to be a student again? The pulling pressure of "what to do what to do what to do" now and after college needs to disappear, because if I remind myself to step out of this cutthroat world, all I see is time. Time's arms outstretched, nothing but time (and when time is not greater than or equal to money, the world seems golden).
Apologies for the despondent entry. But I guess I had to at least write something to make it look like I'm alive and breathing (check) and am enjoying the greatest season of all: Fall in New York. Inspiration is tricky- usually something bad or extremely good needs to happen to me in order for me to have that burning desire to write... maybe I need to read more. Probably. All I know is that all the leaves are brown and red and golden and it's exquisite.
