A lone babe emerges from a wood

 No, I have not been lost in the woods for the past two months. Rather, I’ve been — as I am right now — working. Working my 20s away and chain-scarfing red wine and ice cream in my spare seconds because maybe I want a little bit of gratification that is instant after a 70 hour work week.

But that is not, as the kids say, sustainable. So here I am, a little extra money in the bank, a lot of extra L-fucking-Bs around my waist, plotting my next move. Across the water and plip plop back into the city that I intentionally dropped my life (what life? har har) to sprint (ok drive (ok ride in the passenger seat)) to last September.

I made it five months before being kicked out of the city and landing in the early to bed, picturesque, kid/dog/tourist-friendly prison that is Bainbridge Island. I worked for free and lived for free and made some friends and lost them all. Was it them? Is it me? I did receive one well-intentioned ‘It’s not you it’s me’ speech but I don’t believe life is quite so binary. All of a sudden the only people I hear from want to get into dat ass. Time for a change. Time for a dive, a swim, a ferry ride back into the city that rejected me (aka said Emily can you please grow up and get your shit together already?!) just four months ago.

My fantasy is to live in Ballard and bike to work wearing my sleek new bike outfit with my work clothes folded neatly in my sexy new backpack and when I get to Belltown I will take off my stylish new helmet chain up my bike with my unbreakable new bike lock and skip trit trot into work with nary a drop of sweat mussing my perfectly bouncy auburn curls (which thanks to my new Deva Curl shampoo and conditioner look amazing despite being crammed under a helmet for 45 minutes). I will drink seltzer water and stop eating those damn cookies and life will be perfect. In my free time I’ll eschew all human contact and write a book and it will be brilliant. I will sleep in my own bed. I will rise with the sun. I will glisten.

Unfortunately, my fantasy costs $$$ (also I’m scared to ride my bike (also I value fucked up social interactions more highly than quality time spent alone)). If you were to rate the things I value in life based on how much money I spend on them, it would look a little something like red wine > ice cream > everything else.

If you were to rate the things I value in life based on how much time I spend on them, it would look a little something like working > drinking > walking > thinking > existing > going to the bathroom > writing.

So perhaps my swiftly approaching future will be a little more similar to the present. I’ll walk because I cannot manage to catch a bus (though I have an iPhone now! lol@ things I can’t afford) drinking cheap red wine with a twist off top from a paper bag because I am too busy to sit down in a bar and too overworked to stay sober. The bike rusts; the hair mussed; mixing tenses for a cheap grab at rhyme.

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About Emily Suggests

Pineapple rock, lemon platt, butter scotch. A sugarsticky girl shovelling scoopfuls of creams for a christian brother.

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