Life as it stands this morning.
This past week I officially started my new job at a bank. I signed a lot of stuff that says I can’t say which bank on the internet. So, unless someone comes in to see me and finds out which bank, you can all keep guessing. Hint: It’s at the Prudential Center.
This has been a week where it keeps slapping me in the face that this has actually happened for me. For four long years it was sort of a pipe dream of “yeah, this is gonna happen,” and even last month it hadn’t fully sunk in. This week has been a lot of me realizing that I don’t get to see my family till Christmas. It’s been a lot of me facing the fact that I don’t get to go back and live with the roommates in September. There have been many moments on a crowded subway car that I wanted to sob when it hit me that I’m here. Because holy fuck, I made it.
And is my job top shelf? HOLY SHIT NO. But my house is an absolute dream, and I love the people I work with already. I know it’s a great bank and I believe I have some solid job security for a while. Everyday I wake up, I’m so thrilled to be here and happy to be walking to the train that I could burst out of my skin. Everything has worked out for me. I am so highly suspect of it, but fucking right things are good.
And I have a guy. One who is wonderful, and sweet, and actually thinks I’m awesome. And he is actually a good guy, who cares about what I want and need out of life and who is the most supportive and encouraging guy I have met in a long while. He’s also adorable and funny and smart, and willing to take this nice and slow without even trying to pressure me into a relationship. There are moments when I look at him and think that I could really be with him for a long time. I’m still trying to get my head wrapped around that one.
All in all, I felt like someone might care about my life and be following me for more than just my excellent taste in reblogging things. My tumblr has gone right down the tubes since I started working and living the life I always dreamed about. Sorry, I’m not sorry.