Normally, the onslaught of Valentine’s Day ephemera inspires a mere eyeball roll from me, but this year I find myself sprinting past heart décor window installations back to my apartment, a zone void of pink and red reminders of the guy who decided to end our story — the same week I got laid off my job, which just so happened to also fall on the week before the impending holiday. My job and I had a solid eight-year relationship, until the corporate office decided to “downsize” and I got dumped. The guy and I? We had a good run of late-night laughter, cooking with rare spices (sumac, anyone?) and forging the kind of intimacy that makes you quietly happy, for as long as it lasts. “Longer than Kim (Kardashian) and that Kris guy,” as he put it during our breakup.
Being unattached and unemployed this Valentine’s Day is a constant reminder that I would like to be tethered, well, to something. Whether my final destination is a new gig or a new guy (or both!), getting there is the fun part. Or not so fun part. Here’s my plan of action … Keep reading »
