Get a real job

Just as I thought, my boss thought I skipped town because my phone was disconnected (I didn't pay it before I went to NY). So I don't have to go to work until the end of the week. Bye bye money!!! The one good thing about being a workaholic is that I always have more money than I need, but now that I've totally become a lazy non-working girl, I've seen my money just disappear. All my money's gone!!! I think I'm gonna have to start living like a poor person again.

Marty (photographer who dyed my hair disastrously) makes as much as I do on a good month at the club, and she has a real 9-5 job. A surprising number of old friends have become lawyers. Best Friend's book deal has made her a little bit of money too. (In totally unrelated other news, have you read Bar Flower, the best book ever, yet?) My grown up friends are making REAL money. Then again I do have a lot more freedom than almost anyone I know. I can just not show up to work, I can take as much time off as I want, blah blah blah.

However, I'm pretty restricted when it comes to my social life, and in my dating choices.

In that book I read about the MIT kids beating the system and winning millions in Vegas (21: Bringing Down the House), they talked about people REALLY making money. I mean they made millions with their crazy little math-whiz brains, card counting at black jack. But the strippers and hookers and companions were making serious money too. If I was working in a brothel in Shibuya making the equivalent of 300dollars a day, I'd be really pissed to know that my counterpart in Vegas was making 3,000dollars for working less.

I guess the lesson of the day here is that Vegas is the big time for sleazy work. And the other lesson of the day is money for money's sake gets old really fast. I need to grow up and get a real job.