..here's an update.
I have been in ever-shifting moods the past month, but thankfully, I've been phasing out (mostly) the aimless crying and intensive stress re:jobs/life/omgwhatamIdoing. Things have not changed drastically in an actual, tangible way, but my plans for the future shift frequently enough that it feels like I'm playing a casino card game with my life.
The options I've toyed with:
--Find something in Chicago and stay here (currently applying for an unpaid internship, which means I'd have to find another job). This is dependent on finding a job within the next month.
--Go to Boulder and soak in the sun and mountain air, possibly picking up a menial job while I applied for work back East. This is wonderful in terms of social stimulation and mental health, but would probably isolate me a bit from what I'm trying to do.
--Go home and apply for jobs without having to pay rent/for food.
--Go to Wash, D.C. and more aggressively pursue the international orgs that have been ignoring my applications (or declining me sans interview).
...and then there's the Wild Card, in the form of a friend from high school (do you still read this, Cat? Hi!) who has an editorial position in New York City, and seems to think with a high degree of seriousness that she could help me secure something.
The past week has been an explosion of the Wild Card option in my mind, as it just presented itself like a mirage in the desert. And if it's true--if something comes out of this--it would be such an opportunity. NYC must be the capital of publishing in the U.S., and her contacts' companies are big-name players. I would experience the world of language in a new and direct way. I would have a steady income. I would have a tiny apartment with many varieties of tea in the cupboard. I would go out to coffee shops on Saturday mornings and sip something warm and caffeinated in a mug while pouring over the New Yorker or the New York Times with a new-found, local perspective. Then I would go to a park, or a record shop, or one of seven trillion bookshops, or do anything I wanted because it would be New York City. Where I've never been.
Amazing.
Few options involve me staying in Chicago, which means leaving the boy is almost an inevitability. This is made all the more poignant by the fact that we have so little time together now. He's been in Oregon since Tuesday, and tomorrow evening I pick him up at the airport. We get exactly one night together before his parents fly in from France on Sunday and stay at his place for two weeks. One of these weeks they'll be exploring the U.S., and after that F. goes home to France for another week. He's finally back here the second week of September. If I'm still jobless, I'll be here until September 18th--otherwise, I'll probably be gone. Which means all I know is we have tomorrow together. And not even the day.
It's made especially more poignant in that we've had such a nice couple of months together, driving around town and going on a picnic and listening to music and watching movies and talking. And kissing and laughing and growing to understand each other better. There's an animal comfort you get when you wake up in someone's bed day after day, when their bed is your bed, and after five months this is where we are. Now, more than likely, I just have to drop the comfort and abandon it. I should be happy for what I've experienced, and I am, but... this is hard to face.
The dreamy mirage of New York, and the social net of Boulder, helps. A great job and a big city or family, friends and mountains. Going home would be infinitely depressing, and I can't afford D.C. right now.
You know what I'm imagining? That glittery, multi-colored wheel on The Price is Right. Except that wheel hasn't stopped spinning, it just keeps on spinning. Homey Chicago + Boyfriend? Great job + great city (jackpot)? Refreshing Boulder + menial work?
Spinning, spinning, spinning...
