Feeling suddenly run down and depressed, like the wind has just left my sails and it’s time to just float a while. I’ve been fighting a headache all afternoon, pushed aside to meet friends at the Planned Parenthood benefit this evening. I’m wondering if coming to NYC was a mistake. I’ve got steady freelance work for the next 2-3 weeks but all I can think about is that I’ve got 5.67 weeks left of unemployment benefits and I’m sleeping on a futon and my stuff is in a storage locker and there’s no air conditioning where I’m staying and it’s going to be 93° later this week. And, oh, I’ve been to four meetings in the last two weeks.
I’m okay today, right now. But the person I am isn’t comfortable with just today; I want to know that tomorrow and six weeks from now and ten years from now are going to be okay, too. I want to know when The Job is going to come, whether I’ll ever get over Jack enough to date again, where I’ll be living in August, and a thousand other things. But even if I knew those thousand things, I’d want to know a thousand more.
I’m tired. I’m lonely. I’m hungry, not just physically but existentially. I’m more scared than I’ve ever been in my life. This all has to work out. It just has to. I can’t seriously consider any other option, even though those other options occupy my fears and nightmares.
Sometimes, the only thing to do is call it a night and get some rest. It’s always at least worth a try. “Tomorrow is another day,” said Scarlett O’Hara. One way or another, that’s always 100% true.