My evil plan is working

I mentioned I have a part-time job, just something modest to sustain me during my internship. This job, while fun and pretty decent as far as part-time jobs go (more on this later), is eating up the rest of my life.

That’s one reason why I haven’t been writing. The other reason is far more exciting.

I’m slowly convincing my best friends to move to the District.

This idea sprouted sometime late senior year, when we were all talking about what to do with the rest of our lives. In between conversations about international volunteer work, journalism, IT, politics, psychology, and mid-wifery (for reals, we’re pretty awesome), we all voiced the same question, one we knew we could probably never answer in the affirmative. Guys, what if we all lived together in the same city, in the same house, somewhere down the road?

Aaah, college. Almost our entire four years, we had all lived together. We took for granted how blessed we were to share a cozy cottage (when I say “cozy”, I’m definitely not referencing the triple room, and when I say “share” I’m also not referring to the bats). Those evening dinners with Jeopardy! Those late nights with rum and spilled pizza and really bad movies.

Though I had only begun to consider moving to DC at that point, privately I thought it was the most acceptable “compromise-place” for all of us. We could all manage to do something field-related in DC. So as soon as I moved here, I took it upon myself to turn into “that annoying friend” – you know the one I mean. The one to whom something happened (“Poor Fluffy ran away!”), and now she must always preface conversations with that experience (“You know, when Fluffy ran away, I went through the same thing, so this totally relates…”)

Only my repetitive phrase involved moving to DC. You know Laynsy, there’s this job that combines IT with international relations…Hey Becks, you could do Spanish church work here, right? Court, there are lots of babies on my block, so clearly DC needs some good nannies… MirCat, public policy + international work = DC… Imma jussa sayin… Sis, we’re in the same field. Getcho butt out here.

Variations on a theme, people. I would apologize for being so annoying about it, except, well, MY FREAKING PLAN IS WORKING: LAYNSY AND THE SIS MOVED TO DC. Enter times of growth, exploration, laughter, and most importantly excessive immaturity sprinkled throughout our masquerade as real adults.

This is why I haven’t been writing. Oh, and the second-job thing. That too.

Be warned: consider my (not so) subtle brainwashing to continue.