Take that, recession.

I'm on a four-hour bus ride to Boston (to re-live college for the hundredth time since graduation), so it's time for a blog update.

Long story short, getting de facto fired from my job turned out not to be the worst thing in the world. Sure, I moped about it for a few days and at one point caught myself pouring a shot of whiskey into my bedtime hot chocolate (which, by the way, was disgusting), but I was pretty quick to get back on the blitz-job-application bandwagon. Five million emails and a few interviews later, I landed a new job. And it is way, way better than my old job.

It is, however, just as random as my old job. This time around, I'm working at a Tibetan carpet showroom on East 59th Street. I'm basically an Illustrator monkey, creating digital renderings of textile patterns - but, besides the potential carpal tunnel syndrome and blindness that could result from sitting three inches from a computer screen and clicking a mouse for up to seven hours a day, I like the work and I'm pretty confident that I won't randomly stop having this job for no apparent reason. Plus sometimes I get to play with pom poms, and other times there are cookies. So I'm pretty much set.

Another plus is that this is a legit job, not a freelance-gig-turned-wishy-washy-part-time-thing. As much as I thought I liked making my own hours and getting paid off the books at my old job, I'm starting to realize that being on a real work schedule and recieving a real paycheck is way more conducive to earning a significant amount of money. Which, in turn, is more conducive to not panicking every time my rent is due. So there we go. It all worked out.

Make that three weeks.

I'm gonna go out on a limb and assume that I no longer have a job.

At least I finally got my FAFSA to work. Goodbye employment, hello debt.