S’mores In A Cup And Working Full-Time

19 Jun


Tonight I told Luke I was giving up writing.

We were walking hand in hand along Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica, the palm trees swaying, the blue stretching out before us.

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay?!” I said.  “This was an extremely difficult decision, THE difficult decision of my life.  It cost me a lot emotionally and I would appreciate you taking this seriously.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Hrpmh,” I said as we walked into our restaurant.

I’m so tired.

I’m tired enough that I say things like I’m giving up writing when I don’t really mean them because I’m exhausted and I’m trying to tackle everything at once, and all see is a big future ahead of me where I have no time for anything but sleep and work.

I started my job this week, and let me tell you what, this is something of a lifestyle adjustment.

Tonight at dinner I kept laying my head against Luke, practically falling asleep at the table and our friends assured me it gets better.  I’ll adjust to my new schedule.  I’ll figure it out.

And I believed them, because they introduced me to the restaurant’s S’mores in a cup, and also because, no never mind, it was about the S’mores in a cup.

Oh!  Luke doesn’t like marshmallows!

Breaking news!

Well not breaking, as I have known this for some time, but breaking for my blog readers who are extremely interested in my boyfriend’s eating habits.

I ordered a steak tonight (more fun food facts, coming right at you!) and I when my plate got to me, I scooped up my spinach and mushrooms and put them on Luke’s plate and he said, “You know, your greatest flaw as a human is that you don’t appreciate mushrooms.”  Later, when I ate my S’mores cup and he refused the fluffy goodness, I said, “Your greatest flaw as a human is that you don’t appreciate marshmallows.”

And that maybe sums us up in some weird way.

Or maybe not.

Or maybe yes.


Another fun Luke fact: he goes to the store every single day.


He likes it.  He enjoys the grocery store like no one else I’ve ever known.

The day he moved he had a semi-emotional goodbye with his butcher.

And when Luke told me about his store habit, I was so incredulous I could not even speak.  “Stop,” I said.  “Stop it right now.  You go back to the store and you buy seven yogurts, that’s what you do.  You do not go every day to buy a single yogurt.”

But then again, I’m a girl who goes to the store once every quarter so maybe he shouldn’t listen to me.

All right.  Where were we?

Oh yes, I’m working.

I’m working in Downtown LA where the view from my building is as you see above.

Like, hello city.

And every time I look at this, I can’t help but think about Young Jill.

Young Jill dreamed of nothing more than working in a big city. She was sure she belonged in the middle of everything, soaking up culture and refining her mind and buzzing and bursting and flowing and something.

And here I am, all grown up and working in a big city, and it’s nothing like what I thought it would be.

For one, it’s not New York City, which I always kind of imagined it would be.

And thank heavens for that.

New York and I were never meant to be, though it’s still the city I get every time I take one of those “What city should you live in” quizzes, I’m apparently so fond of taking.

I get New York and Luke gets New York and Cait gets New York and it’s like all my favorite people are the type of people who should live in New York but don’t.

And maybe that doesn’t sum us up or whatever.

So that was for one, in case you forgot.

For two, cities aren’t as glamorous as maybe I once thought they were.  Like today, on my two-mile trek to Chipotle, I stepped on a rogue earring and the stud managed to pierce its way through my wooden ankle boot and up to my foot!

What disease do I have now?!

(Don’t worry, my mother is in Utah exploring the fine print of my shot records.)

After I stepped on the disease tack, I kept thinking, “I’m going to die.  This will be it.  I will have died because of my greed for Chipotle.  Who knows what rare and terrible diseases that thing had.  I’m going to die, slowly and painfully and probably be on the news.”

And then I bought myself a dozen M&M cookies to go along with my Band-Aids because it was that sort of day.

And then I came home to write.

After eating a steak with no mushrooms.

And S’mores in a cup.

Because I’m not giving up writing, it turns out.

I’m just tired.

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5 Responses to “S’mores In A Cup And Working Full-Time”

  1. chelsea June 20, 2014 at 5:36 am #

    I freaking love your writing style. Please oh please don’t give up.

  2. Miriam June 20, 2014 at 9:37 am #

    Work is the bane of our existence. It interferes with life in a big way! I agree with Chelsea: Don’t ever stop writing please!!
    Before you give up writing, give up work.

  3. Rachel June 20, 2014 at 9:47 am #

    I’m sort of like Luke in that I go to my Trader Joe’s almost every day. It’s mostly because I feel like I can’t know what I will want to eat the next day. Or I will buy a bottle of wine, and then look at it the next day and think eeww, why did I buy that? I need something else. And then I can’t just buy one thing, so I buy tortilla chips, thinking that I have a jar of salsa in the fridge. I get home and realize there is no salsa, and so the next day it starts all over. Neurotic? Yes.

  4. Caroline L. June 20, 2014 at 6:34 pm #

    I’m going through the exact same thing. Started my internship this week – my first 9-to-5 gig. And I’m in NYC. And all I want in the world is to get to enjoy every nook and cranny of this city, but all I get to really do is work –> sleep —> work —> sleep thanks to the exhaustion. Corporate America needs to encourage naptime, that’s my suggestion.

  5. Bridget July 7, 2014 at 11:37 am #

    Absolutely love your style girl! So relatable. Just discovered your blog and agree with everyone above: don’t give up writing!

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