Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
HRA, or Human Resources Administration, is a bureaucracy in New York City. The organization is designed to support people in need by helping them apply for food stamps, cash assistance, and other such government programs. It’s a great cause, but as an entry-level employee, most days I feel like I’m completely out of my element among the seasoned employees.
And then when Tanya left to live her dream life, I realized that I don’t really know that many people in my office. At least not on a personal level. I’ve been trying to go to the happy hours now and again but being a 22-year-old and surrounded by people with kids my age, I don’t end up spending a lot of one-on-one time with my colleagues.
Tanya clucks sympathetically. “You’re young and you’re brand new at the office. It’s only been a few months. Heck, I was still getting lost on our floor two months in. You’ll find your footing.” She pauses before pressing on. “So, if it’s not trouble at work, then what’s up?”
I wince, my cheeks flushing once more even though she can’t see me. “Nope, I’m not confessing this to you.”
I can practically see Tanya roll her eyes. “Morgan, please. You know all my dirty little secrets. And their names are…”
“Okay, okay, fair!” I interrupt. “I just… I’ve been feeling a little lonely on the dating front. And you know it’s Valentine’s soon too, which only makes me more depressed.”
“I get it, I’ve been there.” Tanya stops talking, clearly ready to listen attentively to my woes. “Especially because we never really had good prospects at work, where you spend most of your time.”
“Work is busy!” I counter, feeling a little attacked by the accusation that I don’t make time for a social life.
Probably because it’s true. I have friends and I like to go out, but I’ve been in a funk since graduating. Not to mention I have loads of debt. Spending money I don’t have just sounds stressful.
“Work is busy, and it will always be busy,” Tanya offers wisely. “I’m not criticizing you, Morgs, but I do feel compelled to remind you that you’re not old and married yet.”
I nod. “I know, I know,” I concede. “Anyway, I have been trying to get out a little more. On casual dates. I downloaded a couple of apps.”
“That’s a start,” Tanya says, her tone encouraging. “So what’s the holdup then? I mean, if it’s all just for fun, cool. But it doesn’t exactly sound like you’re having fun.”
“How you’d guess?” I ask in a dry voice. “I’m not looking for the man of my dreams or anything, but it’d be nice to find someone I actually like.”
“Why, what’s wrong with them?”
I shrug and pick at a fluffball on my pillow. “I’m just not clicking with anyone.”
“Sexually?” Tanya asks in a wry voice, one eyebrow raised. “Or how?”
I laugh. “No, not sexually. I haven’t gotten that far yet. I don’t know, everyone’s just so blah. Maybe it’s because I read too many romance novels about rich, handsome guys who also happen to be CEOs, and who also know how to woo a woman.”
“That does sound like a fantasy,” Tanya says gently.
“I admit it. And it’s just frustrating because the guys who I think are hot end up being complete jerks. And the supposedly romantic ones have no game—it’s all talk and no action.”
My friend winces. “That does sound bad.”
I nod in agreement. “I’ve officially decided. It’s unrealistic to date in New York City because there are no good guys. None. Absolutely zero. Zip. Zilch. Such a man does not exist in this city.”
Tanya laughs fondly. “Oh please. There are sexy, romantic men in the world, and they live here in New York. You’ve just got to weed out the assholes. And the weirdos. There are a lot of those, too,” she adds thoughtfully.
I nod slowly and roll onto my back. “I know you’re right, and none of this is news. Which is why my dating life isn’t actually the embarrassing part…”
“Oh?” Tanya doesn’t sound surprised but rather curious. “Explain.”
I grimace. “I guess you might not know this about me, but I’m kind of into the idea of manifesting.” I bite my cheek, wondering if my friend might suddenly think I’m a total weirdo.
“Huh,” Tanya says in a thoughtful tone. “Like you make vision boards? That’s not embarrassing.”
“No, no,” I correct her quickly. “I mean that I like to spend time meditating about my future and picturing exactly how I want it to go. I want a good job, nice house, and a hot guy. I spend time trying to lay out the steps to get to where I want to be. It’s sort of a wellness practice I guess.”
“And you’re disappointed because you haven’t reached your goals? You’re twenty-two, Morgan. You’re young,” Tanya chides gently.