Thoughts on Moving

Saturday at Park Ave was an insane day, and by the end of it, one of the assistants abruptly quit. So they were unexpectedly pressed for someone to replace her and offered me the position. I took it. I'm not sure if, in a month from now, I'm going to hate myself or think it was a brilliant idea, but I'm going to see. I am now, officially, employeed in Manhattan.

Next step: moving.

The thought of moving is completely disconcerting. I have to find a roommate, or two, or three. I'm really not sure how to go about it. Do I find two other folks and then go apartment hunting all together, or do I look for an apartment already filled with people looking to fill another room? I kind of feel dweeby not know this (because I guess it's pretty basic Life 101 sort of stuff), but I don't. I do know how to move an entire room in 2 hours with two really good friends, though, which I did when I was 20 and moved out of my parents house. It was Guerilla moving; I threw all my stuff haphazardly in Emily’s car, Zak’s car and mine, and was moved in about two hours, slamming my keys BAM! BAM! BAM! on the dining room table as I walked out. I was mad as hell at my mother for throwing me out and having to sleep in a shit motel that smelled like oil paint and cum. (I'm not bitter or anything).

I'm hoping this move will be more pleasant, but I just don't want to think about it for about two weeks; I want to settle into this job first and make sure I don't start twitching after a few weeks of snobby and/or wailing children, posh mothers and non-English speaking nannies. If you're a mother that doesn't have a job, what in the hell do you need a nanny for? So many of the kids I see are closer to their nannies than their moms.

I'd never let someone help me mother my babies.