My Life
I am living in Seattle. I love it here.
I had a job with Americorps that didn't work out and then another job with Americorps that didn't work out, and then I was working in a cafe, and now I am job hunting like it was actual a job I got paid for.
I am living in a house with grad students and undergrads and socialists. It is an amazing house.
I have a boyfriend. It is one of those things that adults call "a healthy relationship," and I am very very happy to be in it. With this boy. Who makes me very very happy.
The above cut will elucidate this story for those who had not gleaned the existence of a boy in my life from previous posts or phone calls or visits. This morning I got a phone call from said boyfriend, asking me if I was still asleep at his house.
"Of course," I said, "it's 8:30."
"If you are coming downtown later, could you bring me my Crocs?" he asks. "I have no shoes."
"Of course," I say, as it registers sleepily that he has only bike cleats after biking to work.
When I go to visit him, I notice beer on the table, and am told that there was a going away party for a co-worker.
"O man," I say, "I wish I could drink a beer at the library."
My boy promptly pours a beer into a waterbottle for me to drink at the library while I write cover letters.
What a man.