Everyone knows I have a cold.

Dude, everyone I talked or emailed today had one thing to say to me, "How are you feeling?" or "How is your cold?"

Are you people still reading this thing? I just assumed that when I got home, my readers would kind of drift away, but today it was a stunning reality. You are all there. Reading. Waiting for me to do something fun. Or get a job or something.

Holy crap.

Alright, so maybe I should stop putting horrible pictures of myself with eye styes and in workout clothes on this thing because you people are very attentive. Even my friend Katie, who was thrilled that I mentioned her in my post the other day (and here I am mentioning her once again) writes me an email, "Saw that lovely picture of you. We'll discuss tomorrow." As if I crossed the line or something. We discussed it yesterday over dinner. Consensus is that I am a true artist, willing to put myself out there--the good and the bad--for my art. Ah, the sacrifices I make for you all.

Day four of the job search. And I am putting away cds. And measuring my apartment for pending Ikea madness this weekend. And going to The Container Store to buy a garbage can for the bathroom. And calling my mom. And then I go and "network" with Anjali, over grilled cheese sandwiches and french fries at lunch. She too has done the whole drop her life for a trip thing and knows exactly how I feel right now.

"Aren't you depressed to be back?" Finally, someone who truly gets it.

She says it gets better. I believe her. It already has gotten better.

Anjali, having been in my unemployed situation before, suggests that I have a schedule for myself. Wake up early. Go to the gym. Job search for a few hours. And then spend the afternoon doing the things I wish I had time to do when I had a job: go see a movie, see an exhibit, bake some cookies, work on my writing, whatever. Because soon these days will be gone and I will be wishing that I spent some of my time off, having, well, time off.

It sounded like the best plan I have ever heard. I left that lunch feeling invigorated once again. The schedule begins tomorrow. Exactly like she said.

(By the way, no pictures this post. I keep forgetting to take pictures. It seemed so natural in Europe. In New York, in my normal life, I just feel like a freak. But I will be a freak for the hamsters. The pictures will return.)

Yvonne has a cold.

Me, the last three days.

So Sunday night, I was ready to be all hardcore, and then all of a sudden, I got all the makings of a cold: little sore throat, sniffling nose, that achy body feeling, and I am like uh-oh, I gotta get to bed. But I slept like crap and Monday morning I woke up at some crazy hour and end up in my pajamas for half the day.

Tuesday will be better, I told myself. But it all just repeated itself. Yucky I-am-about-to-get-sick feeling, bad sleep, woke up late. I changed my clothes only because I knew my super was coming to fix my tub which doesn't drain too well. (He didn't end up coming until today. I opened the door in my pajamas). Still, not feeling my best, not feeling very productive, though I guess I have been. Emailing lots of people about jobs, looking on job web sites for most of the day. I had forgotten what it like looking for a job, one, because I haven't done this in a while and two, the last few jobs I got were of the "Oh, here's a good job for you..." variety and did not involve spending hours in front of a computer. So I haven't done this since I graduated college and was looking for my first job.

In some ways, it is kind of fun. I am smarter about it now. I know things I didn't know then. But sometimes I feel annoyed because all seems like all my energy is going into one big void. But then I have to remind myself that the reasons why people aren't getting back to me right away is because they aren't sitting around in their pjs like me--they actually have jobs. And I can't really be discouraged yet. It is day three.

I am getting a little stir crazy in this apartment, however, so yesterday I took a walk across the street to Starbucks to spend some time reading the new Lucky magazine and sip some coffee. Only I found myself in the huge table for handicapped people (the only one left in the packed coffeehouse), felt a little guilty about it, and then I spent the rest of the time looking at the pretty pictures and blowing my nose every two minutes in those rough brown Starbucks napkins. That was no fun.

Today I made it all the way to the gym. My first workout in months, and I kept it light and easy since I don't feel my best and I don't want to admit how out of shape I really am--yet.

All my energies for the last few days have gone into finding my marketing job, but I know I have to be careful not to forget about the reason why I am going freelance and make an effort to focus on the writing as well. It's just so much easier to do the marketing since it's comfortable to me and the writing is feeling a little scary right now.


Dan unpacked the records yesterday.

Help Wanted (in finding a job)

Smart, ambitious woman, with an affinity for Polish pork products, seeks employment opportunities to finance future around-the-world trip, my writing habit (until I get famous) and next month's rent.

Have great communication skills: Fluent in English, broken Polish, and hand-gestures and facial expressions that work in every language.

Proficient in making travel arrangements, reading a map, carrying heavy loads, writing stories, taking pictures, cake tasting, cookie tasting, ice-cream tasting, wine tasting, and sleeping in rooms full of strangers. Can occasionally be fun.

If required, can also develop multi-platform, out-of-the-box, never-been-done-before integrated marketing programs for magazine advertisers. Have not developed multi-platform, out-of-the-box, never-been-done before integrated marketing programs for magazine advertisers in four months, but such talents die hard.

Newly acquired computer skills: Gmail, Facebook, Skype, Blogger. Determined that Weather.com is always wrong, but it does not matter: Eastern Europe is always cold.

Will be kind enough to refrain using the following phrases in client meetings and conference calls:

"Well, when I was in Europe and you were not…"

"Do you speak English?"

"But the Germans said…"

"What country am I in?" Wait, what day is it?"

"I have a train to catch."

"What do you mean I have to work?"

"When do we eat cake?"

Looking for freelance opportunities but will consider full-time if the need for health insurance becomes an urgent matter (broken bones, liver failure, rabies, etc.). Travel bug does not apply.

References:
Dan, New York, NY: Boyfriend and current roommate. He does not want to financially support me and will say anything to get me a job.

Maria, Cedar Knolls, NJ: My mom, who thinks I deserve any job I want and will tell you so, but is probably worried at this very moment that I might get rabies.

Katie, Boonton, NJ: Because she would feel left out if I didn't put her on the list. And she only has nice things to say about me. I love you, Katie.

What would you do if you had no job?

The Met on Friday.


I used to fantasize about this question when I did have a job. I can certainly remember sitting in meetings and conference calls, looking out the window at sprawling Central Park, and wondering to myself, "Why am I here and not there?"

And now that I am "there" I feel like I have not been taking advantage of my no job status. I have been back for three weeks. And the last three weeks have been mostly busy doing things I did not fantasize about when I was sitting in the office. Week one was spent dealing with New York madness, Christmas shopping and card writing and cookie baking. Week two was spent having Christmas and catching up with my mom in New Jersey. Week three was packing and moving and unpacking. Not bad ways to spend my time, but minus time with my family, it all feels a little errand-y and not too interesting.

Now it's week four. And now it's time to get hardcore. Not only get serious about my job search but also start rebuilding my life in New York. Re-introduce myself to Central Park and the elliptical machine. Start cooking and baking. Start seeing my friends again. Pursue my writing ambitions. And I may feel a little insecure without a job (I do spend at least a few minutes each day having a minor freak out) but I am going have to start taking advantage of these days off because I know (or least everyone is reassuring me) that these days will soon pass me by.

This weekend was filled with much needed socializing after a week of boxes. First, I met my fellow in-between jobs friend, Hila, to check out the new photography exhibit at the Met. Now this is something I would think about when I was sitting in my cubicle. I usually always hand over the "recommended" $20 admission, but this time, I plunked down $5. Hey, I am unemployed. Hila gave them $1 in coins. "Art should be free to the public," she declared. I admired her stance. The photography exhibit was only one room, and we only stayed an hour, taking in some European realist paintings, too. By the way, Hila is a great person to take to an art museum. She's pretty insightful, talking about the paintings as if she's seen them a million times and she personally knows the artists.

I went home and poked around a little bit and fell asleep. It must have been a deep sleep because I did not hear Dan calling my cell phone or banging on the door (we only have one set of keys at this point). He had to get the super to open the door for him, and when he came inside and saw me sleeping, he yelled at me, "What happened to you?" I think he was so worried that something bad happened to me that when he saw that I was more than okay, he just got mad. Meanwhile, I was in such a sleepy state, I could barely process what he was saying to me. "I feel like a space zombie," I finally uttered, happy to make a sentence in my groggy state of mine. After a few minutes, my head cleared and we were able to laugh about it.

We headed to the Upper West Side for some dinner with the Jacksons at Community Food and Juice--yes, that is the restaurant's name--which specializes in organic foods. It was tasty, but a little pricey, but we had fun asking the waiter a hundred questions "What kind of bun is on the hamburger?" Dan asked with all seriousness. Brett got a giant red bloody steak that turned him into a mellow cat for the rest of the night. And then we went on a huge tangent of dissecting Dan's "low-carb" diet he did when I was away. Bagel for breakfast, chicken and potatoes for lunch, pistachios for dinner? Hmmm...not very healthy, not very low-carb.


Dan explains low-carb diets to the rest of us...


I don't buy his story...


Emily, a doctor, says that Dan's low-carb diet is bull. Brett is still thinking about his steak.

Saturday, Dan and I were in apartment shopping mode but couldn't get our act together until the afternoon, where we dragged ourselves through The Container Store and Bed, Bath & Beyond. Dan became obsessed with a $169 trash can at The Container Store that flipped open to reveal a space for regular waste and recyclables. We had to admire the great design for about 10 minutes, but it was too expensive and didn't fit in the space, so it was not meant to be. That evening, we went to see the movie, Juno, which just might be my favorite movie of the year. Dan hated it.

Sunday, I caught up with former roommate and almost 30-year-old Meagan, who now lives in a chic luxury building in the west 50's. I went to see her apartment for the first time to catch up after four months and to get some inspiration for my own place. Her apartment is straight from a West Elm catalog and looks so neat and orderly, with everything is in its place, that was I was green with envy, knowing back home I had a big mess on my hands. I then took the uptown train to the Jackson's, in some disbelief that the week had flown by so quickly and here I was at their doorstep once again, with what seems like nothing to show for it. I know that is not totally true but feels that way.

This week, I am getting hardcore. There is going to be to-do lists. There is going to be job searching. There is going to be no-job fun.


Meagan, sitting on one of her comfy couches.

P.S. A Happy Birthday call-out to my brother Pete, who turned 38 on Friday!

The evolution.

Day one: The Living Room. Dark and gloomy.



Day Two: The Living Room. Light and messy.


Day Three: The Living Room. Lots of work still , but livable.



The kitchen.


The masterful closet organization.


Dan requested I write about his self-made tie hangers. Is this blog called Everyday Ham or Everyday Dan?

We interupt moving...

for a delicious dinner made courtesy of Emily. What a better way to spend our last night on the Upper West Side than with our favorite couple eating homemade clam chowder?


Adam, Brett and Emily.


This soup was so good. And I'll take the Le Creuset Dutch Oven, too. Red, please.



Dan, as usual, making faces at me.

The new kids in town.

Our moving team: Lindsey, Brett, Dan, Gretchen, and me.


New Year's Eve, Dan and I got up bright and early to pick up the U-Haul truck. Everything was going to plan when we turn down our street on the Upper West Side and find out that we could not park. Alternate side parking was in effect and everyone was just sitting in their cars waiting for the street cleaner to come so they can move out of the way and not get ticketed. I can't believe these people sit in their cars for an hour and a half twice a week. We pulled into a spot and saw the person in front of us had a television in his car. We got out of our spot when the street cleaner came and then went right back, just like the rest of them, then we could begin to move. So lame.

We had a great moving crew. Dan's co-workers Lindsey and Gretchen to bring the smarts and savvy, Brett Jackson for the masculine power. This guy can lift things like you wouldn't believe. While the girls carried most of the little crap outside, Brett and Dan strategized how to get the two humongous, but very beloved--by me anyway--wardrobes out of the bedroom. An hour later, it was decided: Those wardrobes were not coming out. There was no way to maneuver those things out of there--Brett and Dan tried every move, every angle, every shimmy--and the wardrobes were forever stuck. We would to throw those things out of the window if we were to get them out. (Brett and Dan considered. The girls said no. Smarts and savvy working hard for the East Side move).


Adios, small, narrow apartment!

It was hard to say good-bye, but we left the wardrobes there in hopes that our landlords would consider keeping them for the next tenant (They are so perfect for the space, really). If not, we'll have to go back to destroy them. We hoped to make one trip but had to make two. Luckily there was no crosstown traffic due to the holiday. On the ride back to the old apartment, the girls sat in the back of the truck. It turned pitch black when the car engine turned on, and we felt like illegal immigrants crossing the border. Good times.


Gretchen and I cross the border.

The moving team kicked ass. We were done by 4, celebrating in the new digs with some much deserved (and much needed) celebratory champagne. It was my first move without my family helping me, and I was nervous, but it all ended up working better and easier than I imagined. Now, we had a big mess on our hands. And a new year to celebrate. After a nap, Dan and I headed downtown to a party at Dan's poker buddies' apartment where we brought in 2008 with some awesome peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, chocolate covered pretzels and more champagne to get us through the night. (Well, until 1 am when I finally lost motivation to stay awake).


Dan pours the bubbly.

Our new apartment is really nice. Dan did a great job in picking it out all by himself. The rooms are square shaped and roomy and all the appliances are new. We have an elevator and a laundry room in the building. I think we were both a little nervous about being on a busy avenue and not being able to sleep (even though we're on the 6th floor, you can hear the cars driving by). But the two of us completely zonked out on our first night and I know I haven't slept that well in weeks. The next morning Dan said that after a while the cars sounded like ocean waves. I wouldn't go that far, but it didn't bother me.


Happy 2008!

Slowly and surely, we started cleaning up our things, finding new places for our stuff. I definitely need more space for my clothes (damn you wardrobes!) but so far, we seem to be managing pretty well. When Jan 2 rolled around and Dan went to work, it felt really strange not going back as well. I know I am unemployed but there was this weird part of me that felt like I was just on vacation and would go back as well. I kind of missed seeing everyone and comparing holiday stories. I continued working on the apartment for the next two days and am finally reaching a point where I am feeling stir crazy looking at boxes and papers. It's time to start calling my friends and making plans. Everyone should be back from the holidays now.

A welcome change from unpacking, a friend from my travels, Sarah, is in town this week, so we went out for a drink. We met in Croatia and she is spending one year traveling around the world. She is stopping in New York before heading down to South America for three months. We swapped stories about Europe and she told me of her plans which sound amazing. I am a little jealous especially since it is summer there and hurting cheeks cold here in New York.

She asked me what I planned to do about work and that seems to be the lingering question out there. I am back in the States. I got me my new apartment. It's time to see the friends. But it's also time to get the job.


Drinks with Sarah.