Someone hand me a towel, I need to throw it in


I’m getting hecka depressed guys. It just dawned on me the other day that my temp job is ending in one month. All that “Maybe they’ll hire me” stuff? All fantasy, never was ever gonna happen in reality. And I knew that, I just allowed myself some hope. After a year and a half of total hopelessness, I needed a respite from it. And I’d hoped to save money but really we couldn’t. We used what made to catch up on some of out mountain of bills and also to fly home because of Nana. When I look at it like that, I’m just glad this job gave me the ability to say a proper farewell to a person who meant so much to me. In this respect, I couldn’t ask for more.

BUT, this keeps slipping my mind when I start wallowing out of nowhere. The fact is, I’m SCARED. I was in a really bad place before I got this temp job. Living here has only JUST started feeling good and now, too soon, it’s gonna go away and that is terrifying. I have some contingency plans in place that maybe I can “make happen” but the reality is that I’m going to have to spend the next month in total anxiety mode because I can’t ask for a firm date that this temp job ends and therefore I can’t really line anything up without potentially having to renege on finishing this commitment. And also, a little ghost in my head doesn’t WANT to give it up because there’s a little hope that still exists there that even if I’m not hired in my department (unlikely), maybe I’ll get hired in a different department (also unlikely). And that leaves me out on the ho stroll again, doing and redoing my blasted resume. Applying to jobs I don’t have a prayer of getting. Writing thank you letters and shooting them off into Internet hell never to be read or responded to.

And today I realized that school starts a full month later than I thought it did. This is a bummer because part of my contingency plan is to get a job at school but I am not eligible for that until I am a matriculated student. So that’s one more month added onto my prison sentence that I hadn’t been counting on.

Also, I was offered money for tuition in the form of a grant and loans. I had to take the full amount offered to me in loans because I can’t afford to go to school or LIVE if I don’t. That means what I owe just doubled. This makes me want to dig a hole, crawl in there and nap the rest of my natural life away. A literal dirt nap. No I won’t be dead, I’ll just take over for Puxatawny Pete on Groundhog’s Day. “That weird blonde bitch crawled out of the hole for a second. She said something about Netflix and crawled back in. I guess that means it’s Spring?”

And do you know what makes me really anxiety-riddled? And I hate to even say this because it’s blamey and, I suppose, passive aggressive but it makes me feel really bad when people say things like this to me:

“Don’t you think it’s time to give Kristyn a turn to relax? You’ve been doing it since you got there.”

“Not for nothing but if you’re not gonna get a job, you should be the ‘wife’ and do everything around the house.”

“I’m not like you. I would take any job. I wouldn’t be picky.”

The list of bone-headed remarks can go on. I try not to take it personally and try to say I’m just being sensitive but inside I’m like:




And my favorite:


Sigh, motherfuckers, sigh.

This place, living here, BEING here, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I know someday I’ll become a Mom and that will be harder. I know that there are tons of people who’ve moved to other places and survived it. I lost a friend this year because he couldn’t rustle up a shit to give that I was depressed. His reasoning was that he’d moved to the US from another country when he was a kid. The end. I was like, “Okay yes that’s sort of the same from a social and a culture shocky perspective but were you responsible for feeding yourself and clothing yourself and keeping the lights on and a roof over your head? Did you have to find a job or have a tough time “getting into” the public school in your neighborhood?” I mean I’m not trying to be a jerk here and I know, BELIEVE ME I KNOW, that I am “lucky” and all those things you tell someone to tell someone to shove a sock in it and quit whining. I know I’m lucky. There literally IS a lot of luck to being successful out here. Sometimes you have to be at the right place at the right time. So I try to create opportunities for myself by putting my neck on the line for as many things as I can. But putting yourself out there is a LOT OF WORK. The endless strain of living uncomfortably and doing without and making concessions and budgeting and factoring and saying “oh next year we’ll do this” or “when I get a job we’ll do that”…ITS STRESSFUL.

It makes it REAL EASY to forget all of the perfectly great reasons I left NJ and came travelled to this beautiful hellhole. Here are the reasons we came here:

1) We both just always wanted to for no other reason than that. We wanted to.

2) This is gonna sound similar but we just wanted to work in entertainment. This is an individual goal. We moved here because we wanted to, NOT to get into this industry. We could’ve done that at home. We actually both given up the entire idea years before we made plans to come out here. We only picked the idea back up again right before we came out here as a “when in Rome” type situation. I mean don’t get me wrong, this is what we both always wanted to do, we just couldn’t figure out HOW and it seemed to impossible to try so we gave up. Then we got here and it kind of seemed stupid not to so here we are.

3) We were bored of NJ. Not of our family and friends, just NJ. And not NJ specifically. The whole Tristate area, INCLUDING New York City. As much as I’d like to live there next, I’d only really like to do it for the experience and for proximity to work when I’m starting my career. I like living NEAR NYC but living there would take a special kind of marathon of “putting up with shit” that I know I wouldn’t be able to handle for long, especially being from the area and knowing where else I can live that ISN’T a 24 hour a day stress machine. I think I’d last one year tops.

4) Experience. We wanted to experience a lot. Driving cross-country, being that far from home, new culture, new climate, flowers and trees blooming year-round. It’s an intoxicating thought to have when it’s February on the East Coast and all the trees, grass and flowers are dead and you can SEE your breath in front of your face for a large portion of the day.

5) To get out of the goddamn cold and rain. I’ve never mastered the art of bringing an umbrella with me when I’m gonna need it or leaving it somewhere I can find it in a pinch. I always inevitably leave a glove somewhere or lose my fucking scarf. My winter coat always loses a stupid button. My hair is prone to static electricity and so I can’t wear hats. My lips and hands were tired of getting windburned and then CRACKING AND BLEEDING for half the year. And oh man the ice. Driving on it, walking on it, breaking it off of shit at inopportune moments so you can go about your day. Shoveling out the car or the front walk. Buying that stupid bag of salt and finding a goddamn shovel and ice scraper every winter. YOU’D THINK that when you are used to living in a climate where you are required to own a device to BREAK ICE sometimes, you’d keep it in a handy location. But no. There’s always a scramble and its not there when you need it. “Where did all the goddamn ice scrapers and shovels go? I KNOW we had four of each because I just replaced them last winter!” And then you have some foggy memory of lending them to some neighbor or an aunt or some other miscellaneous person and it turns out THIS SHIT NEVER HAPPENED because you find’m just as soon as you buy more which you would THINK would mean you will at least have more than you need next winter and yet it’s never the case.

Ah f. We’ve created a helluva pickle for ourselves because now WE WILL NEVER BE HAPPY AGAIN FOR THE WHOLE ENTIRE REST OF OUR LIVES. Now if we live here, we will always miss food and cold and family and trees. *Wah!* And if we live home then we’ll miss warmth and sunshine and being able to leave shit outdoors without it immediately becoming waterlogged or rusted (as is the case back home). *Wah!*

Okay I’m gonna go watch me some “Little House on the Prairie” Season 2, Disc 3. I really wish I was sorry for carrying on like I have but who am I kidding, you’ve abandoned ship an 1/8th of the way into this diatribe. So I leave you with the word:


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