31: manhattan

My face is in terrible condition.

When I don’t eat well, forget to sleep and stop exercising altogether, the powerful trio makes its absence known, leaving me with a dry, ashy complexion that adds years to my face and tons of ugly little marks remindful of the terrible teenage years.

OK, now I made me sound really ugly, but I’m not that bad … thanks to CoverGirl.

But even she stopped doing her job today, and by mid-afternoon, I was standing under the fluorescent light in front of the bathroom mirror at work, studying the under-eye circles that pushed through the powder and ebbed darkly into my face.

So then, this is recovery weekend. I will wash off this makeup after I write this, bury my face into my pillow and sleep into the tired afternoon tomorrow. Then I’ll wake up, eat whole grains, a salad for lunch and steak for dinner, and then I’ll read for much of the day. I’m looking forward.

A date with myself. Finally.

You know, New York doesn’t lend itself to quiet and relaxation. The hardest thing about living here is maintaining the balance. On the days when I’m not out seeing things, meeting new people, getting involved in random political campaigns, attending lectures or volunteering, I’m inside embracing the much-craved-for silence — whose invisible cloak of fragility unnerves me as I embrace it, and it threatens to burst with the powerful possibility that I’m missing a lot out there.

But you can’t wear yourself thin like that, I keep reminding myself and pull the cloak aside. You have to remember that life happens, and if you show up tired and cloudy eyed for it, you’ll miss it anyway, even if you’re standing right in the center of it. And so, that’s why this weekend is for recovery. I know that New York will happen out there, but I’ll be checked out, sitting inside and only glancing at it once in a while pass me by once in a while from my window as reassurance that it’s still there and will remain there until Monday.

For now, it’s Blossom Dearie that sings to me about taking Manhattan, and I let her go on while take my time off and do my own thing away from the frenzy of this city.


About tali2

I am a recent grad of the wonderful English major. Though I don't regret studying English one bit, I realize why my teachers, parents, friends, and imaginary mentors warned me against it: Because it leads you nowhere. But it did give me great writing skills which I hope to continue honing in this blog as I chronicle the tribulations of the terrible job hunt in the terrible job market of NYC. And I hope that my blog reminds fellow unemployed recent grads that you are not alone, inspires some hope within us, while presenting a snapshot of our lives to others who do not share the same self-imposed troubles.
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