5-26-23

NYC. 

The traffic is a bitch. This is not the place to own a fucking car.  

The apartment was owned by an old cadaver by the name of Walton. He was some hotshot attorney for a private firm. Whatever. 

It's a sweet pad. I could almost forget that my girlfriend up and left me and that I'm doing a job that I hate. 

My first day is Monday. 

I called an old friend, Toby, to hook up for a drink tonight, Knowing him, he'll be bringing some snow and weed. He came out here about a year ago. Took a position with Senator Marquez. 

The elections are coming up this year. It's always an important election year, though. But since Roe v Wade fell and three quarters of the country are falling apart at the seams, tensions are high and parties are frazzled. They're scrambling at the DNC and RNC as people are getting demanding and looping nooses around light poles in the heart of DC. I was surprised he agreed to meet me tonight. 

I tried calling Nathara, again. It stopped going to voice mail and is now just dead. 

Disconnected. 

I keep thinking about the things she said. We have places to be, persons to become. What the hell was she talking about? 

Fuck, this is driving me nuts. 

Going to get a shower and grab some vodka from the market.