I guess the belief that looking for a job would be a constant struggle, that I'd be broke forever, that I'd always feel guilty about spending money — and that I'd always feel free, as a result, to pick up and try my luck elsewhere — was so much a part of my identity that I'm having trouble letting go of it. As recently as yesterday, my list of tactics for making money in a pinch included Tao Lin's notorious strategy of shoplifting Moleskines and selling them on eBay. I've still never paid for a bottle of nail polish. And I can no longer spend more than six dollars on a meal without feeling horrible about it.
Helped Renata with a paper on Nietzsche and slave morality this morning. Can't help but wonder if I've been rationalizing my low expectations for myself (or my parents') for so long that I can't even enjoy real success any more.
Same questions about love: have I been reconciling myself to the idea that it has to be difficult to find love, just because it has been difficult, for so long that I won't be able to be happy when the time comes?
At least I'll have my tiny beautiful Chinatown walk-up to romanticize and rail against and love and hate for the rest of the year. I'm planning to get a disco ball for it.
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