So I just moved into my new apartment with Phil yesterday; which was too much of an ordeal after driving 8 hours home from Philly the day before including through Downtown NYC traffic and a 5 a.m. shift at work the day of the move. But, the move was accomplished, and here I sit on a futon cushion in the corner of the apartment we have lovingly nicknamed "The Republic of Letters." It's spacious, has lots of windows (but no lights weirdly enough) and is slowly coming together as the home of two nerds. However all I can think about at the moment is how fucking hungry I am. The reason for this being I haven't eaten today, which I guess isn't really a revelatory reason. The purpose for stating that is I was reminded by my hunger of a conversation I had with my old roommate Shawn about some other roommates who hadn't quite gotten how rough living without parental support could be. They were grumbling about how hungry they were and how much they wish they weren't poor and how difficult life is when Shawn turned to them and said, "Motherfuckers... some days you just lay there and starve."
I like this story, because it's 100% true. Some days, when you're a poor prep cook, you starve when you can't afford to buy groceries. It's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just a sign that you understand that being an adult sometimes isn't the fun body shot and all-night party lifestyle we like to think it is when we're high schoolers or undergrads in college. I understand that I just moved here and that I've got more bills to pay then I've had in my life before; rent, utilities, student loans, and the like. This means that sometimes I have to prioritize my spending, and food gets written out of the equation. I work tomorrow, I get a free sandwich, and I can hold out. Until then, I like to think of this as some sort of mind/body purification, allowing me to focus on things other than how fucking good a plate of damn nachos would be right now.
So continue about your evening, Internet. I'm gonna lay here and happily starve.
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