Having returned to New York with barely enough money to pay my first month's rent and half of my bills, I realized today that for the first time in several years I am unemployed, broke, and hungry. Not since my sophomore year of college when I was an RA with free housing but no time to get a job have I had to live off tap water and peanut butter, washing my underwear in the bathtub with dishwashing soap.
Totally badass, right?
Okay, I'm pretty sure it won't come to that this time. I have an interview tomorrow for a job as a cocktail waitress and a stimulus check from the government coming this week. I know I'm going to be fine. Still, it's been a while since I had to live off $50 a week or less, and that makes me a little nervous.
My friend Sarah from The Irish... lent me a book about a month ago, a lovely Irish memoir called Borstal Boy by Brendan Behan. At 16, Behan was a badass little punk whose connection with the IRA in the 1930's landed him in an English prison for three years. I'm only about halfway through (don't judge - I'm a fast reader but I get easily distracted, especially in times of chaos) but what I'm digging most so far is Behan's youthful waivering between self-pity and noble defiance inspired by deep patriotism. He lives on bread and potatoes and grumbles from time to time, but ultimately he decides that his loyalty to Ireland is worth a few years in prison: it's a small price to pay for the love of one's country.
Balancing my meager budget today, Brendan Behan popped into my head. If he can live on bread and water and little else for three years, surely I can do the same for a few measly weeks! And isn't my plight also in pursuit of an ideal? I choose a sparse, unstable life in the name of the creative human spirit! For the freedom to follow my artistic impulses, always endeavoring to reach out to the humanity in all my fellow men! To live a full, feeling life, experiencing the full range of emotion and experience, not just the fat happiness of the wealthy and privileged!
Riding high on these delusions of grandeur, I began to create a budget. I figured I could afford to spend about $30 on groceries to get me through the week until I received my little bit of money. Then subsequently, I'd have enough to live on about $60 a week for two or three weeks while I'm unemployed (though hopefully I won't be unemployed for that long.) I rationalized that if I purchased 7 items at $4 per item, I'd ring in at $28...perfect!
But could I do it? Me, of the chronic indulgences of every little craving and impulse? Sometimes I spend $20 on stuff to make guacamole! Sometimes I spend $16 on fancy natural shampoo and conditioner...just because I FEEL like it!
Gathering my wits, and doing my best to embody the spirit of Brendan Behan, I hopped on the subway and went to the Whole Foods in Union Square.
The minute I walked through the doors, I fell head over heels in love.
First of all, I've long since learned that everything is bigger and better in New York than anywhere else in America. (I've only been here 8 months and already I'm an elitist asshole.) It stands to reason that the Whole Foods would follow suite...but wow. I was blown away.
Three stories. The produce is in the basement like some kind of organic wonderland. There are 10 different checkout lines which are color-coded and television screens dictating when it's your turn to proceed to which of the 30 different registers. The lines are out the door. And I was there at 9:00pm...apparently all cosmopolitan Manhattanites do their trendy grocery shopping after their post-office workout at the New York Sports Club down the street.
I had come prepared with a cute little list of the seven items I was going to purchase: apples, peanut butter, bread, oatmeal, carrots, hummus and cheese. I selected each item carefully, saving a few dollars here and there on items that were on sale, so I splurged and threw in a cucumber and some vanilla soymilk for good measure. And I did give into buying the fresh Irish Cheddar...as a tribute to Behan and my fake Irish heritage.
Standing in line, I felt fantastically self-empowered. I could do it! I could be a trendy New Yorker and still survive on merely a few dollars! Why didn't I realized this sooner? It's so much easier to go grocery shopping than I ever imagined! And I had exercised such fantastic will power, which I tell you, is definitely not my strong point.
The total at the checkout line? $19.75
I am amazing! I am a goddess of budgeting and nutrition! I won't starve! I can live for my art and squeak by at the same time! How did I ever let myself descend into such insipid materialism when I was living here before???
I'm the modern female equivalent of Henry David Thoreau! Whole Foods is my Walden!
I am a fool.
Tomorrow I will get a job.
Totally badass, right?
Okay, I'm pretty sure it won't come to that this time. I have an interview tomorrow for a job as a cocktail waitress and a stimulus check from the government coming this week. I know I'm going to be fine. Still, it's been a while since I had to live off $50 a week or less, and that makes me a little nervous.
My friend Sarah from The Irish... lent me a book about a month ago, a lovely Irish memoir called Borstal Boy by Brendan Behan. At 16, Behan was a badass little punk whose connection with the IRA in the 1930's landed him in an English prison for three years. I'm only about halfway through (don't judge - I'm a fast reader but I get easily distracted, especially in times of chaos) but what I'm digging most so far is Behan's youthful waivering between self-pity and noble defiance inspired by deep patriotism. He lives on bread and potatoes and grumbles from time to time, but ultimately he decides that his loyalty to Ireland is worth a few years in prison: it's a small price to pay for the love of one's country.
Balancing my meager budget today, Brendan Behan popped into my head. If he can live on bread and water and little else for three years, surely I can do the same for a few measly weeks! And isn't my plight also in pursuit of an ideal? I choose a sparse, unstable life in the name of the creative human spirit! For the freedom to follow my artistic impulses, always endeavoring to reach out to the humanity in all my fellow men! To live a full, feeling life, experiencing the full range of emotion and experience, not just the fat happiness of the wealthy and privileged!
Riding high on these delusions of grandeur, I began to create a budget. I figured I could afford to spend about $30 on groceries to get me through the week until I received my little bit of money. Then subsequently, I'd have enough to live on about $60 a week for two or three weeks while I'm unemployed (though hopefully I won't be unemployed for that long.) I rationalized that if I purchased 7 items at $4 per item, I'd ring in at $28...perfect!
But could I do it? Me, of the chronic indulgences of every little craving and impulse? Sometimes I spend $20 on stuff to make guacamole! Sometimes I spend $16 on fancy natural shampoo and conditioner...just because I FEEL like it!
Gathering my wits, and doing my best to embody the spirit of Brendan Behan, I hopped on the subway and went to the Whole Foods in Union Square.
The minute I walked through the doors, I fell head over heels in love.
First of all, I've long since learned that everything is bigger and better in New York than anywhere else in America. (I've only been here 8 months and already I'm an elitist asshole.) It stands to reason that the Whole Foods would follow suite...but wow. I was blown away.
Three stories. The produce is in the basement like some kind of organic wonderland. There are 10 different checkout lines which are color-coded and television screens dictating when it's your turn to proceed to which of the 30 different registers. The lines are out the door. And I was there at 9:00pm...apparently all cosmopolitan Manhattanites do their trendy grocery shopping after their post-office workout at the New York Sports Club down the street.
I had come prepared with a cute little list of the seven items I was going to purchase: apples, peanut butter, bread, oatmeal, carrots, hummus and cheese. I selected each item carefully, saving a few dollars here and there on items that were on sale, so I splurged and threw in a cucumber and some vanilla soymilk for good measure. And I did give into buying the fresh Irish Cheddar...as a tribute to Behan and my fake Irish heritage.
Standing in line, I felt fantastically self-empowered. I could do it! I could be a trendy New Yorker and still survive on merely a few dollars! Why didn't I realized this sooner? It's so much easier to go grocery shopping than I ever imagined! And I had exercised such fantastic will power, which I tell you, is definitely not my strong point.
The total at the checkout line? $19.75
I am amazing! I am a goddess of budgeting and nutrition! I won't starve! I can live for my art and squeak by at the same time! How did I ever let myself descend into such insipid materialism when I was living here before???
I'm the modern female equivalent of Henry David Thoreau! Whole Foods is my Walden!
I am a fool.
Tomorrow I will get a job.
