Why Live In NYC If You Can't Shop? (Confessions of a Shopaholic)

ooooooooopsies.
I behaved badly this past weekend.

I started out on a quest to purchase some more work clothes, because I'm pretty sure my colleagues are sick and tired of seeing my same pair of patterned pants or blue blouse day after day after day. 

Well, let's just say I ended up justifying my actual (non-work) purchases with "as long as it isn't half of my paycheck, I can still afford to eat this week!" and "but pumpkin spice latte season is quickly approaching and what am I going to do without the perfect utility jacket I can happily sweat under the full late August sun in??"

Problems.

It's not my fault, I swear.

I blame the magical land called C. Wonder's fitting rooms. Touch-screen panels that allow you adjust the lighting (my bank account hates the dim option now) and the mood music (playful! flirty! nostalgic!) AND fun mod carpets and fabric dividers that I snapped pictures of as future home decor inspiration?! And the sweet salespeople who walk your purchase around the counter to you. What the what.
devils on my shoulder.

And then there was that white dress from Banana Republic with the white leather sleeves. It's one of those dresses. You put it on and feel like a million bucks (well. you know you'll feel like a million bucks once five pounds disappear with a 'poof!', but $950,000 doesn't suck either). I'd tried it on the day before and knew it'd be the perfect rooftop bar dress, but it was a weensy bit over my price limit. What do ya know, I tried it on again the next day and the pricetag was suspiciously twenty bucks cheaper. Now I have to get it; it's a matter of principle.

Oh, and today.

Hmm. I went into Kate Spade because. Because. Just because. But there I am perusing casually, touching a satin-y dress here and picking up a soft leather bag there. I came upon the shoe section (thumping heart) and lovingly petted a pair of black suede booties with the prettiest mini bow on the black and a metallic plate on the heel, knowing that I can't afford them. 

Adorable salesgirls in chic hot pink minidresses approach me, generous with compliments and trouble sparkling from their eyes.

"Oh, those are for sure marked wrong." They go on this spiel about how a comparable pair of shoes would be at the very least twice the price and how they're just SO CLASSIC and look, how about you just try them on. And wow, they go perfectly with your dress! By the way, they're made in Italy. And yeah, they'll for sure realize their mistake today and mark up the price, that's why we're all getting a pair during our break. Oooh, and what a coincidence - there's only one left in your size!

I was putty in their hands, guys, I couldn't help it. I got the shoes. 

How does tap bottled tepid ice water sound as sustenance for the rest of the week?

Facts From Corporate America

As of yesterday, I've officially reached the halfway point of my internship. I could tell you all about what I've learned in data analysis, brand positioning, and consumer insights (actually, I couldn't. I'm contractually obligated to keep some secrets), but let's talk about some of the more ... practical ... things I've learned about Corporate America.

I should say, though, that the disclaimer is - if you have a job that you love in an industry that you're passionate about, even spreadsheets of numbers on numbers on numbers and color-coordinated deck presentations can be exciting to the core. (Which I do have.)

With that said ...

// Office bathrooms = the most awkward non-scenarios. Do you wait for the other person to leave, or should you make a break for it, flush, wash hands, and book it out of there fast? Uh oh. I know those shoes. I don't want to be peeing next to the person wearing those shoes.

// Building a work wardrobe is the only time shopping has ever been boring.

// Every cubicle is inconveniently placed. Every cubicle. The big bosses get the breathtaking Central Park views, and they also get to glance at their employees' computer screens from a distance.

// Therefore, Pinterest browsing must be cursory and yet purposeful. Of course this is research for a project. Don't you see how intently I'm looking at this one Pin? And how I'm looking back and forth between it and my open spreadsheet?

// Gchat with your best friends is as much as a life saver as a life boat in the open sea. Pretty sure I'm saving these chats to read when I'm eighty eight and bored in my rocking chair. Remember when I had the audacity to write in all caps.

// The Harry Potter soundtrack in full is 8 hours long. A whole work day's worth of being the hero and saving the world from evil bad entertainment, in my case. (Thanks, Lo)

// Office fridge politics. So, this isn't all that relevant to me because I'm too lazy to even need a fridge for my food, but I know it happens and you know it happens.

// Whatever your job description really is, it's actually glorified Googling.

// Linkedin. 

// Breakfast on the go, lunches at the desk, dinners a la Chez Lean Cuisine or Chez Chipotle, whichever is less work on said day.

// Outlook's to me what Anne Hathaway was to Miranda Priestley, except I still have to fetch my own coffee.

// You better like your cubicle buddies (cubi-leagues?) (cubbie buddies?) because you literally are with them your whole life now. It's like elementary school, but without recess, Disney movies, or adult supervision to scare you into getting along with each other.

// Half your shoe closet is under your work desk. The nice part of your shoe closet, anyway.

// Any happy hour or nighttime carousing is put to an end obediently by your common sense telling you that you know sitting under fluorescent lights for eight hours staring at Outlook will suck if you keep going. 7am Marimba wake up alarms don't take any excuses.

// Research (is Google), Powerpoint presentations (basically, scrapbooking), and Excel (OCD organization) = the premise of everything and anything.

// You hit a wall at approximately 3:00pm. Coffee break, it is.

// You finally understand the true meaning of 'TGIF.' I mean, yes, you say it in school and whatnot, but that's simply child's play.

TGIT, guys and gals!

Virtual Coffee, 0.6

Truth be told, I'm actually enjoying a mug of dark chocolate soy milk right now, eleven minutes before I have to dash out to start my work day.

Truth be told, the coffee picture above is from a couple of months ago, on a slow Sunday morning when my roommate and I spontaneously decided to go to a new-to-us brunch restaurant and discovered that it was James Franco's favorite restaurant in Mountain View, and also that they have reallllllyyyy good coffee. 

She's coming to visit exactly a month from now. If you and I were having coffee right now, that'd probably be the first thing I tell you. My best friend is coming to visit and oh boy, do we have plans up our sleeves and we don't see ourselves resting for a single minute in the four days she's here. My other best friend, Lauren, is coming to visit this upcoming weekend and excited can't even begin to describe my state of being right now. Hope this week goes quickly.

Speaking of 'week goes quickly,' today marks the start of WEEK FIVE. As in, tomorrow, I'll have been here exactly one month. Still blows my mind how time flies, and I really want to run a statistical analysis on how many times that phrase has been said on this blog because that has been my greatest takeaway in the past couple of years, I think.

If we were having coffee, I'd be telling you all about how outraged I am that a movie ticket here cost me $19. NINETEEN. DOLLARS. Granted, it was at a movie theater in the middle of Times Square, and granted it was X-Men in 3D and you know I'd pay any price to have some quality time with my pal Jennifer Lawrence, but still. Highway robbery.

If we were having coffee, I'd tell you about Manhattanhenge, the sunset phenomenon that happens a couple of times a year that makes for a really great picture - the sun sets directly upon the NYC gridline. And I went, expecting a solid Instagram, but it was cloudy and I was sad. But I was even sadder for the crowd of professional photographers who had been waiting for a couple of hours probably, with tripods bigger than me. Oh well. Next time.

Lastly, I'd chat with you about the weather, because honestly - so. hot. so. humid. And I have no air conditioning, and it's hell, but I'm strange in that I've always dreamed of getting to live in a crappy apartment in my early twenties, just to get to reminisce about it in twenty years. The apartment's not crappy at all - in fact, it's quite nice. But the no air conditioning factor is terrible. And also, I was caught out in the rain a couple of weeks ago and all I did was start laughing out loud because I had been hubristic and stopped into J.Crew for a browse and into a juice place to get an acai bowl even as the sky darkened and rumbled ominously. But I knew I could make it home in time, I reasoned, before the downpour.

I didn't.

Happy Monday!

P.S. I live right above a German bar. So needless to say ... I'm exhausted.

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