chapter 5
in which our heroine attempts to climb a flight of stairs, gets caught up in the moment, and barrels straight up onto the roof, where she proceeds to take a flying leap over the edge and into the wide blue yonder
o.k., kids, here's how it went down:
my employers, whom, if you'll recall, i was not always elated to be working for, herded all of us cubicle gophers into a conference room one day toward the end of april and said, "sorry, folks, but we're shutting it down. you can stay until the end of may, and after that we wish all of you happy lives and good fortune." in truth, they were not shutting down; they were simply shutting it down under its current title, so they could declare it bankrupt while keeping it going under a different name, and with a starkly reduced staff. they may or may not be successful with that, and i don't exactly wish them the best, but their intentions changed nothing for yours truly: i had to find work by the end of may, or i couldn't renew my lease. what to do? well, i applied for this job, and that job, and this job, and that job, and all the jobs i could apply for . . .
a month later, i had received one offer—from a book publisher in manhattan. i accepted it. i had a week to pack and prepare, a weekend to move all essential items to my new apartment, and three hours to get used to the fact that i was going to wake up in the morning, get on a train in brooklyn, get off that train in midtown manhattan, and start a job that i had no idea how to do. the last two weeks have been dedicated to trying to figure out how to do that job before the people around me catch on to my incompetence, and i think it's working, but it hasn't left me with a lot of free time to read the news or ponder the ethical implications of various developments or chat with any of you. don't think i haven't been sad about that. but things are coming together, and this hushed, dormant blog should be rising from its deep slumber any day now. i'm so sorry that i left you without warning, and i hope no one worried too much, but think of all the thrilling nonsense i'll be able to regale you with from here on out. somerville is lovely, but it's still massachusetts: prim and well manicured, a bit stodgy, a titch self-congratulatory. new york is just ridiculous. and it's all mine.
give me a just little more time, lovelies, and it'll be all yours, too.
o.k., kids, here's how it went down:
my employers, whom, if you'll recall, i was not always elated to be working for, herded all of us cubicle gophers into a conference room one day toward the end of april and said, "sorry, folks, but we're shutting it down. you can stay until the end of may, and after that we wish all of you happy lives and good fortune." in truth, they were not shutting down; they were simply shutting it down under its current title, so they could declare it bankrupt while keeping it going under a different name, and with a starkly reduced staff. they may or may not be successful with that, and i don't exactly wish them the best, but their intentions changed nothing for yours truly: i had to find work by the end of may, or i couldn't renew my lease. what to do? well, i applied for this job, and that job, and this job, and that job, and all the jobs i could apply for . . .
a month later, i had received one offer—from a book publisher in manhattan. i accepted it. i had a week to pack and prepare, a weekend to move all essential items to my new apartment, and three hours to get used to the fact that i was going to wake up in the morning, get on a train in brooklyn, get off that train in midtown manhattan, and start a job that i had no idea how to do. the last two weeks have been dedicated to trying to figure out how to do that job before the people around me catch on to my incompetence, and i think it's working, but it hasn't left me with a lot of free time to read the news or ponder the ethical implications of various developments or chat with any of you. don't think i haven't been sad about that. but things are coming together, and this hushed, dormant blog should be rising from its deep slumber any day now. i'm so sorry that i left you without warning, and i hope no one worried too much, but think of all the thrilling nonsense i'll be able to regale you with from here on out. somerville is lovely, but it's still massachusetts: prim and well manicured, a bit stodgy, a titch self-congratulatory. new york is just ridiculous. and it's all mine.
give me a just little more time, lovelies, and it'll be all yours, too.