There were a lot of hairs. They were long. A unibrow was starting to take shape. Somehow this had gone unnoticed. I usually pluck these hairs well before it gets to this point. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror this morning, groggy, tried to shake myself out of this grogginess I've been feeling for weeks of being unemployed now. It had come to this. I have apparently stopped caring about things I normally would, had failed to notice myself, had perhaps done so intentionally, perhaps wanted to forget myself.
I started tweezing hairs away, making two eyebrows, sending the fighters back to their respective corners, pulling them off each other.
That's when I noticed ear hairs as well, a lot of them. I have been failing a lot lately. This was proof.
I have been unemployed for about three weeks now, probably long enough for these hairs to grow wild, untamed. New York is getting the better of me these days. I want to win. I want to beat this city. I don't feel like I have ever felt solidly in control of this city. To keep with this fighting analogy, it's been a gritty backyard wrestling match amongst school boys. For the better part of my time here, I have been pinned to the ground, the city yelling "Say Uncle!" There have been moments where I have squirmed my way out from underneath and managed to pin the city, have felt for a moment, sometimes even moments, that I was in control, that I had the city pinned, that I would emerge victorious. But usually the city, stronger thing that it is, usually quickly flips things again and has me pinned again, shoving my face into the grass.
I honestly have no clue what my future holds. I am unsure how I am going to pay my rent this month without overdrawing my bank account. I thought things would be easier. I didn't really plan for this. I somehow imagined after interning at an ad agency this summer, I would easily get hired at one. The process is a lot more drawn-out and time-consuming than I had imagined. And so I applied at a temp agency, but so far they haven't had any short-term assignments for me. They offered me a month long job, which I was nervous about taking because I had been hopeful that I would get a job at an agency soon, but now I am realizing I probably should have taken it.
I have been eating way too much pasta, way too many bagels, way too much peanut butter. Once I finally get steady income, I never want to eat these things again. I have been drinking too many three dollar bottles of Trader Joe's wine, which, let's be honest, I will probably continue to drink once I have steady income.
Diego and I are taking on a third roommate, renting out our living room for a couple months, which has eased my stress about rent somewhat.
I have been striking out with boys I like left and right, which has just been adding to this feeling that the city is piling on me right now, wanting to kick my ass, and to do so in a way that leaves me humiliated. The city has taken my shoes and thrown them over telephone wires, told me to walk home barefoot. Some boys do appear to like me, though they tend to be 21 years old or so, and I am too old for that. Everyone is too old for that, even 21 year olds.
The summer is coming to a close. I am noticing now I need to clip my nails as well. This, as most acts of grooming are, is a metaphor.