Things are crazy. I’m still homeless and very frustrated. I need a bed. I need my things. I need stability and routine. However, I’m oddly proud of myself for making things work as well as they have. It’s a sort of “urban survivalism” where I sleep all sorts of different places now and find 24 hour Laundromats so I can quickly wash my clothes and wear the same things all the time.
I have friends but there comes a point when you exceed their hospitality or feel in the way. But, as part of my exit package with NYU, I retained all my student benefits including lab, gym, and library usage. So I sometimes sleep on the couches in the library and shower, dress at the gym. Things work out.
My job is hard (HARD!) but getting more manageable. I’m making good money and seriously saving a lot on living expenses. I’m at opposite ends of the wealth spectrum at the same time. A couple days ago I had another chemical peel and round of dermabrasion (I wanted to look nice for the wedding) and I got my hair cut and highlighted at the Soho Salon. But, also last week I caught up on sleep in the park. No really, I did. The grass was more comfortable than my friend’s hard floor.
Yesterday Drew and I went to the storage unit to drop off a box and get my suit out for the wedding. I briefly saw my things and it was like seeing old friends. I miss those guys. I have one large shoulder bag and one small one I go place to place with. And with my laptop and cell phone I can pretty much work anywhere. It’s a weird time but I’m getting it done. And it’s just another good New York story to add to my canon. We’ll be in the new place soon I think. And I’ll never take a box spring and mattress for granted again.
