// adjustment//

I’ve been here for a month and a half and I feel like I’ve turned into emily dickinson sans the intellect, which makes me… a hermit. Great. Moving out here without knowing anyone (except my boyfriend whom I live with, which does not help on the getting-out-there vibe) has been incredibly hard and even harder since I work from home. 

You would think working from home would free up so much time, but on the contrary, it consumes it - at least in my world where I function almost entirely on procrastination. So, my days are spent not going out and exploring because I know I should be working, but Im not, and then I somehow end up splitting the 40 hours into seven days instead of five, which then starts all over again on monday and then my schedule never really makes sense or has any purpose …

You know, I think I might be able to handle working from home if I still lived in Chicago. I would know where to go, still have a social life to keep me sane.. not end up wandering around [Manhattan] after realizing the few cafes/coffee shops you picked out don’t have wifi (wtf?) for three hours in shoes that would make anyone cry (but only after you’re too far from home to turn back and change because new york is ostentatiously huge) and then finally making it to the one cafe in neighborhood you do know has wifi but seeing that every seat is filled up [and then calling your mom in the bathroom and crying because apparently you are not 24 years old, but 10]. *sigh*

And I know, I know, there are so many ways to change all of these things, and I fortunately do feel some optimism left over from when I first moved here, but damn it’s hard to pick up and move. And somehow this is not like when I moved to Shanghai or to school, because this is a real life move where I don’t have 40-40,000 people around me all in the same boat. And damn, real life is terrifying sometimes. 

signed, the hermit.

who is currently not putting in her hours.

// Fisheye for the iPhone//

from Photojojo, via my christmas stocking