Nomadism is the New Pink

"Rachel and I discussed it, and you're the best roommate ever. We see you for five or ten minutes at a time, then you disappear for a few days, and it's anyone's guess as to when we'll see you again." -Nick

At least fifteen people have asked me when I'm leaving. The answer is shrug, with doubts about having the will or the way to go at all. About the same number, give or take a few, have generously offered me their couches to sleep on while I'm still here. I'd be like a portable slumber party, but gone for work before everyone wakes up, with none of the awkward bleary-eyed good-byes. If I brought the Strip Twister board and had kitchen and bath privileges, I would be called something else.

Randy: Why don't you want to go anymore?
ME: I don't think I can afford it.
Randy: I don't really think you can, either. What's another reason?
ME: I'll miss my friends.
Randy: That's not a good reason.

Saturday is my last day at the coffeeshop. They hired someone new to replace me, so the only hours I would get would be last-minute desperation replacement shifts.

"There's nothing like being alone in a city when you're young and shit-broke." --Katie

Truer words.