Paulie’s decided to move out. It’s sad and scary, but I don’t feel devastated. Mostly. Sometimes. I have good moments and bad moments, and anxiety’s a problem. What’s a girl to do? Aerobics, what else?
Mamie asks a good question: if you didn’t have to worry about anything, what would you do? I don’t have the answer to that one. I can’t see through the money issues, the self-doubt, the pointlessness of trying to imagine myself so free. Which is pretty alarming, or would be if I weren’t already worried about being able to keep my apartment. Right, so I’d better get on the stepper.
Back at the beginning, what would I do? I would like to be writing. It seems like a pipedream these days, and I get tangled in my inability to see the future. As Mamie says, maybe we just need rich husbands and better shoes.