My job, that is. I quit my job. Again. This time, for the perils of an ad agency and all the money and glory that comes when you watch too many episodes of Mad Men and the magazine publishers don’t—they really don’t—know how to paying a living wage. I’d like some Ikea furniture by the end of the year. I’d like to afford my drinking habit. Six months at a job isn’t so long, is it? It felt like ages. It felt bad. I’m in the business of ripping off band-aids. I’m retired from babysitting.
Subway MapSubway Philosophy is about New York, culture, sex, publishing, memories, alcohol, or a combination of the above. Originally taken from drunken musings on the subway, it has evolved into something extraordinarily similar to most young blogs: which is to say, redundant, romantic, and woefully introspective.
Current Subway ReadingWhite Teeth