Peer Pressure

Friends and acquaintences of mine continue their march toward adulthood while I watch. I'm glad to say that I'm not jealous nor do I begrudge them their happiness.

My progress toward that same destination has been slow, but it is happening.

So in point of fact, my gaming buddy, who I once mentioned brings his girlfriend to our games on a Friday night, has just moved in with her in a one-bedroom apartment in my favorite neighborhood, but one block away from Central Park, as opposed to a more westernly direction toward Riverside. Anywhere in that neighborhood is expensive, but a block from the Park has got to be astronomical.

So of course I think to myself about the gaming buddy, and what kind of resources he must have in order to be able to move in to choice real estate. He has good credit, surely. Unless it's under his girlfriend's name. Then she has good credit, even though she looks to be still in her twenties, and he in his thirties. Yet there they go. At least one of them can apply for a lease without being laughed out of the leasing office.

That must be a nice feeling. One that I won't know again until I'm in my sixties, most likely.

And yet, still, I feel a sense of progress and hope. There is a counseling center in Manhattan that I am writing a cover letter to for employment. I really want to work under the man who it's named after because I've heard him on WBAI and I think he's brilliant. And nurturing. I think he genuinely cares for people and a man like that can, and usually does, inspire me.

I'm inspired enough, in fact, to send the cover letter w/resume, and hope to replace My Night Job with some per diem work in counseling. There was a time when I'd look up into the new highrise buildings and shake my head, wondering "How?". Now I look up into those plush, posh apartments and wonder, "When?"