Suze Orman would kill me

Checked my savings today. Not sure why. I have none.

Must find ways to save money. Must find ways to save money.

The tighter my purse strings the further away from my old lifestyle i get. No more taking cabs just because i'm too tired to wait for the train. No more dinners out just because. No more expensive yoga classes, organic shopping, starbucks, shoes. The list keeps getting longer. I'm stopping now to prevent another freak out.

Next post: budget. That'll motivate me. Do I have excel on here?

Tick, tock

The trouble with being the only unemployed one out of your friends is you're the only unemployed one out of your friends.

This gut wrenching realization happened upon me last night when it dawned on me: I am the only one who doesn't have to wake up and be on time to anywhere in the morning. I failed miserably at trying to persuade both roommates to come out for a cocktail to ease this epiphany. Yes it was 9:30 on a Monday night, but I flashed the i've-just-been-laid-off-face and dangled the it's-on-my-severance-check-carrot. No budge. So I went to bed early knowing I'd just wake up early to catch them getting ready for the jobs they still had.

So. This is the bummer that is being unemployed. And then the downward

spiral

happened.

What am i going to do with all this free time? How long am I going to be unemployed? I'm going to be unemployed forever. I'm going to have to move back home with my parents. I'm going to be like those losers who sit on the couch and watch tv all day. This is a recession. No one finds work in a recession. I'm going to be poor forever. When my severance runs out I'm going to be on unemployment. I'm going to be on unemployment forever. But I can't be on unemployment forever, unemployment runs out. What if i don't find work when it runs out?

it got borderline psychotic. i think i cried at one point. i have an ill-feeling more of these freak out sessions are in store.

s

Weeknights, meet weekends.

In these troubled times, the best thing we can do is celebrate.

I would be lying if i told you the job i was let go from was a dream job. actually, it was the furthest thing from it. so after the initial ego bruise wore off and i finished sulking and sleeping in, i began to celebrate.

And apparently all of new york was celebrating too. this recession is like one big party with the entire 8.5% in attendance monday-thursday until 2, 3, 4 a.m with no one to answer to, no work to bring home at night, no job to go to hung over the next morning. now this. is. freedom.

of course i couldn't do it alone and my loosely-employed, could-work-from -home-but-rather-get-dressed-up-and-wear-that-missoni-dress-to-work roommate came with to toast this newfound freedom.

my weeknights have officially become my weekends and look something like this:

monday: balthazar's

tuesday: hotel delmano

wednesday: soho house (so not my scene but whatever)

thursday: rose bar (always wanted to go here, now have an excuse. what excuse? i've been laid off and I deserve it).

friday: i think little frankies because i was burnt out and needed some comfort food (read: pizza and vino)

it all seems so shameless but i have nothing but time on my hands and severance in my pocket. that, and right now a stiff drink and some fabulously unemployed new yorkers are the only things making me feel better about this inevitable long road ahead.

more on that later. for now, i'm partying like it's 2009.

enjoy the pics. special thanks to the bus boy for making the last one feel candid.

s

Pink Slip

First of all, forgive the inaccuracy of the subject line. I don't know if anywhere really hands out pink slips anymore, do they? I would've rather one, however, as my lay off was much more confrontational than I would've hoped if one hopes for being laid off; and would have much preferred a simple piece of paper asking me to pack my belongings and go.

Considering the times, I can't say my lay off came as a shock but was still nonetheless shocking, if that makes sense. I was called into a tiny, dark and therefore foreboding room containing two of my bosses and H.R who began by giving the same eulogy everyone hears when they're being terminated: these are hard times...you've been with us for a long time...we're sorry.

I was thanked for my hard work, asked if I wanted to say anything (I stayed silent) and officially let go into the 8.5% abyss known as the unemployed. Thus marked the beginning of my new life as a recessionista.

s

recessionista (n) : a fashionista in the middle of a recession.