it's like a village of strip malls

A couple of months ago, moving in with my mom in the 'burbs seemed like a decent Plan B. I figured I'd have something lined up job-wise by November 27, but here we are, folks, and I don't. I'm on an extended vacation, I suppose. A sabbatical, as Kate Moss says. I also say "temporarily retired."

It's Day One and I'm bored as fuck.

I've done four loads of laundry, made some Spanish rice for lunch, and am attempting to not email or chat up my loved ones too much, lest they tear their hair out from sheer Jen-overload. I'll go for a run later.

I need a book, but I have no car to drive to the mall to buy said book. I am a prisoner in this home. My only friend? The television. (Days of our Lives is on in five minutes, so, honestly, it ain't all that bad.)

I don't think I'm going to be able to do this for the entire month of December. I miss New York something fierce. In fact, while doing my first load o' clothes this morning, I could barely stomach watching the Today Show, not because I can never stomach that show, but because it reminded me of home. I wanted to get out of New York for so long and when it became reality? I want back in! I love New York! I need to go back.

...and I will, on Wednesday. I'll be in town from Wednesday through Sunday, save for Thursday, when I'll be flying to Atlanta for the day.

I'm torn.

(But, I'm not. I think I know what I need to do. Maybe.)