...then comes lunch.

Dear T,

I’m very sorry for my delayed reply. I’ve actually been avoiding all forms of technology for fear that it would confirm some bad news I’ve been expecting. 

It is a truth universally acknowledged that one’s optimism for the new year is inversely proportional to the good fortune they should actually expect to encounter. Okay, fine, I made that up. But I can say with great certainty that my optimism for the new year was premature, as the change I’ve been dreading has arrived. Apparently this has been months in the making, but somehow I was the last to know. I’d hoped that I was wrong, and that by some miracle the information I’d received was merely hearsay or speculation, but there’s no sugarcoating the truth: it looks like I am losing my job. 

I will refrain from sharing the exact specifics, especially since I’m still processing how I’m feeling about everything at the moment. I’m just feeling really…betrayed, I guess is the word. By my employers, by my friends— I just feel really alone right now.

The icing on the cake is that my mother already found out what happened (how she did this is a mystery, but she has her ways), and now she’s insisting that I move back home, saying “This grand London experiment of yours has clearly been a complete failure. It’s time to return home and find something useful to do.” That’s a direct quote, if you couldn’t tell. 

I cannot tell you how desperately I do not want to go back. I’ve only been here for a year, and as challenging as my life here has been, I love it so much. I’m not ready to leave– not now, maybe not ever. But unless I’m able to sort out a new employment situation in the very near future, I am not sure what my options are.

I know we have The Rules for a good reason, but these are the moments I wish we knew each other properly. I could really use a hug. Until then, I will continue to drown my sorrows in ice cream.

Everything sucks,

M

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