The Dead Zone

I found myself asking a familiar question today as I drudged down the gloomy gray staircase at the hospital, "How the hell did I get here?"

Yes, I have asked this question many times over the last few years. Today it was spurred-on by a meeting with my boss, a meeting that confirmed my paranoia was well placed and left me angry and deflated. Basically, I am doing a great job, but I need to do more menial work so other people in my department don't get jealous. Politics. She tried to reassure me by saying, "Don't worry, you have a great career ahead of you here, the rest of them are not going to go any farther." Wow, that might actually matter to me if I wanted a career in a government hospital!

Trudging back down the stairs to my shitty office (that I was told is not actually mine and will be recouped as soon as they can find another hole for me), I began to bitterly ask that tired old question. Immediately I heard my mother's voice in my head: "You wanted to live in New York. You are living the dream and this is just how you a paying for it!" My mother is not big on pity parties. But really, when am I going to start working in a field I actually want to grow in? When am I going to be able to answer the question, "what do you do", without giving a "but soon I'll be...." at the end of my job title? I hate to put all my eggs in one basket, but that seems to be precisely what I am doing with NYU. I just pray I get in, that my eggs don't all scatter and crack.

I signed-up to be a mystery-eater. It pays a whopping $15 per article plus the cost of the meal, but hell, if it turns out that it isn't a scam, it is a great way to practice my writing. Perhaps it can be a good preview of what life as a restaurant critic would be like. I am not sure if it will appeal to me at all, but as with most things, you won't know until you try.

Other than that little project, the rest of my day went by as usual. I left the hospital feeling utterly exhausted and dead inside. The government, or any uninspired work I suppose, can truly gnaw at your soul. I wandered down 1st Avenue to my CSA's Meet Your Farmer's event. There I heard two people talk about their food and their passion. It was nice to see pictures of fresh vegetables that made my mouth water. I began to feel a bit livelier.

See, when I get in "The Dead Zone", all I want to do is lye down and phase out. Bring on the coffin! I have to force myself out into the world where the pretty things I love, like food and friends and New York herself, can nurse me back to health. Spring seems to be here, but there are still some icy winds blowing through me.

One day I hope that my job, my day to day pursuits, will bring me to life instead of forcing me to fight-off spiritual death. I don't know what that will look like, but I am going to keep searching and experimenting until I do. For now I will cling to the remedies of gastronomical dreams and fanciful friends, for now I will bring myself back from the brink as best I can.