Undesirable Bubble Effect

I took the subway, which was packed, which is ok, because it was peak, and peak is always packed but then came in this trashy girl with a huge flower tattoo sitting above her but (which we all had a nice view of due to her extremely low cut jean), super oiled up hair, fleshy protruding stomach, person, who casually leans against the holding pole while dropping a dirty tissue.

No one can now hold the pole, nor do they seem inclined to tell her that no one can hold the poll if she leans against it, so instead they stretch their hands up above her oil ridden hair. There is bubble around her from people avoiding her as much as possible even though every square inch of the car is densely packed.

She is a living billboard screaming: I have no respect for myself, have every STD known to man kind and I am familiar with jail and prostitution. We are all thinking the same thing as we are jostled to and fro from the many stops and starts of the subway while cautiously maintaining the bubble. When is she getting off?

When off she goes... and in enters a fresh set of people who go for the area on the pole that we still refuse to touch when a girl says "ew, that's oily".

I mentally make a note to avoid places on the subway that seem strangely vacant when a car is so packed. It's the undesirable bubble effect.

Employed Again

My short lived stint of self-employment as a translator has now officially ended. I am now "gainfully employed" (cheers in the background - "Go Girl, Go Girl")

After many disturbing and disastrous interviews and poor offers, I have finally made my way into the industry that I had been looking to enter which is finance - check.

I have the ballpark salary I was aiming for - check.

The position is promising - check.

The position offers growth and the company is growing - check.

The people seem nice and down to earth - check.

It's as if all my checklist have been covered and all my wishes have been granted so now why do i feel so wistful? Why this lingering doubt? The grey cloud?

As much as this period of interview and endless searching felt demoralizing it also had a flavor of hope that all my efforts towards employment were refused or deemed unworthy by me so that i could maintain my course of self employment to eventually become a full time writer. I could end up writing the next Harriet Potter book and move to London where my writing would be aided by the cities rainy weather and a warm fireplace in a cosy flat. Not an apartment, a flat, like the British have and in my closets there would be many beautiful long raincoats which I would swirl around the city and sit in warm cafe in watching the rain. With this occupation I would travel to see my family as often as i feel like. I would take long trips by train and work on the move glancing at the countryside flying by my window while tapping away at my laptop.

Instead, on Monday morning at 7:00 AM I will be waiting on the platform for the LIRR to take me Manhattan in corporate attire where upon arrival at Penn station, I will board the bleak looking E line to my stop at Lexington. In this area I will walk to my office and work from 9 to 5.

Still, I have a laptop and my ambition, and with these as the British say I will "press on".