On this day, one year ago, I wasn't sure of my place in the world. When 2018 began, I had been out of work since the previous July. But I kept at it and in late March began work as a Records Clerk with an outsourcing company called Forrest Solutions and was assigned to a law firm in downtown Boston.
I had hoped to attain paralegal employment, but it became apparent this wasn't going to happen. I was either overqualified or didn't have enough experience and it was simply a gap too wide to bridge. Honestly, I was very lucky to get the job I got. If my future boss hadn't been a bigger baseball fan than me then I'm not sure where I would be.
When I landed the position I felt assured that I would remain in the apartment in Jamaica Plain that I had called home for 10 years. Although my longtime roommate Christopher Kain was moving to Rhode Island, I felt assured I would find a successor. But this process would prove to be as insurmountable as finding paralegal employment. Unlike Christopher whom I had known for six years before becoming roommates, I was at the mercy of strangers. I met with men and women, young and old, black, white, Asian and Hispanic and nothing worked. It appeared that I would be living with a young couple, but that fell through. Then at the 11th hour along came an older gentleman with a steady job. But at five minutes to midnight, he pulled out.
A few days earlier, I saw a posting by Forrest Solutions for a Records Clerk position in New York City. So with very great reluctance, I contacted my boss and inquired about the position. It was available. In late September, after 18 and a half years in Boston, I relocated to New York City and moved in with my Dad and have now been working at the Chrysler Building just about three months.
Yet I haven't completely left Boston. My landlord and the realtors that work for them have been unsuccessful in re-renting our apartment. As of this writing, we are still paying rent for an apartment despite the fact both of us have left Massachusetts. I feel very badly for Christopher who has been paying two rents since July. At the rate we're going this could go on until next July. But I'm not sure how long we can keep this up. Renting out an apartment in Boston shouldn't take a miracle, but when it comes to us nothing comes easy.
Should I have toughed it out and waited to find another roommate? Perhaps. But with escalating rents, if I hadn't moved out last September I probably would have had to move out this coming September or in 2020 by the latest.
At this point, what's done is done. All I can do is make the best of my situation. I enjoy walking to work. Walking back is a different story. Later in the day, walking in NYC is like a demolition derby. When I visited Christopher in Providence in August, I was disturbed by the lack of people in the downtown area. Now such spaciousness would make me break out into dance.
But since I'm in a crowd I might as well as meet some people. This is my goal for 2019. A New Year's Resolution if you will. Living with my Dad means I am not alone and we spend a lot of time together during weekday evenings at the apartment and outdoors during the weekends and holidays such as this one. However, I need to find friends of my own and engage in new activities and find new rituals. Had I remained in Boston I would have gone to Harvard Square with Christopher to see the Marx Brothers tomorrow. Unfortunately, I will not begin 2019 with Groucho, Chico, Harpo or even Zeppo. Instead, Dad and I will be going to Book Culture on 112th Street off Broadway to take in some free food and jazz performed by my Dad's friends. Perhaps someone there will become my friend.
If not there will be another day and another way. Perhaps I can find a friend with whom I can go and take in a Mets or even a Yankees game. Perhaps I can find a friend who shares a mutual disdain for President Trump. Perhaps I could even find a woman to love me. In a city of 8.5 million people that shouldn't be so difficult. But remember nothing comes easily to me. Naturally I cannot force things, but I must still work at it. I can only hope my efforts have borne fruit by December 31, 2019.
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