Part-Time Jokes.

I need to work an extra 10 or so hours a week to survive on my meager intern salary.
I mean, unless I depend on Ryan to feed me. Which would eliminated my $200/month grocery budget.
But until my Boyfriend Meal Plan becomes reality, I need to feed myself ... somehow.
I'm trying to find a job. A part-time job. Preferably in Georgetown.
And considering how difficult everything else is in Georgetown, it will most likely be impossible.
I'll probably end up processing UPS packages in Maryland.
Argh.

Georgetown is an elusive mistress.

I mean, seriously.

Everything from affordable housing and drink specials to students with sensible majors and anyone from anywhere other than Connecticut are IMPOSSIBLE to find in Georgetown.

To survive and thrive in Georgetown one has to:

a. have $$$
b. call Connecticut home
c. own a wide array of Ralph Lauren or Lacoste clothing

I'm planning on simply living in the shadows of my G-Town friends, most of whom possess at least two of the above requirements.
I am also planning on becoming that weird funny girl from North Dakota:

"Oh, look, it's the outsider again. Dance for us, funny girl. DANCE!"

If only I didn't feel so strongly about being protected by health insurance. That extra $150 a month might buy me one Lacoste shirt's worth of popularity, or at least a train ticket to Connecticut to see what's so freakin' great about a state whose entire reputation lies in being close to New York City.

It is like one GIANT suburb of New York. srsly.

Damn you, Georgetown.

You too, Connecticut.