So here we are again, back to those nights of staying up until the sun rises.

Except typically those nights aren't nights when I should be at work in four hours. Because, in actuality, I do have a job, despite my behavior as of late to the contrary. As Jake put it, since they told me I was being let go I've done nothing whatsoever to make them rethink the decision. I mean, it's not like I care for them to, I hate the job and I've wanted to quit more or less once I realized what skeezy business I'd walked into, but all the same. What's left of my work ethic is tossing in its grave.

I guess mostly it's because Chinese Boss is in Hong Kong until the beginning of June and Gay Boss is never in the office anyway, and I find it hard to muster the desire to go into the office when I have nothing to do anyway and they're both not there to see me slack off. Maybe I also resent it.

But I did put in a good-faith effort to go through the pretenses… I went to bed at 4, because while I claimed I would go in to work today (after staying home or going in late three out of five days last week), I knew I wouldn't go in at nine and wouldn't stay until six as usual. But four turned to 4:30 then to 4:50, and restless I got up and decided to walk to the ATM and 24-hour bodega for no reason more than having nothing else to do. And walking out onto the street I was kindof comforted by seeing the sun coming up behind dark sapphire clouds and seeing people walking around already, or maybe just still.

C.S. snickered at me, telling me he knew I wasn't going to work today even though I said I was.

I decided to go back to New Orleans this weekend to see my family. It's funny how I manage to do this around each job loss, huh? The trip will be good.

Not so much to get away from NYC, but perhaps to reaffirm why I want to come back. I think I might need that now, when wondering thoughts of "can I get away with moving back in with my parents again?" run around my brain unwisely. I know I can't. But I'm reminded of a time when the troubles that I thought were the end of the world really weren't, and for all my grown-uppedness when anything really got bad I just had to call Mom or Dad for a ride home. Maybe they were crappy parents who didn't raise me or my brother for shit, but at least they really were always there for that.

I've missed them. It'll be nice to go back.

Entry last modified: April 26, 2006 at 5:36 pm.

Comments for new visitors are moderated and will not appear immediately. There's no need to submit more than once.