My self-summary

I am a freelance writer looking for an on-time and paid invoice. I also love traveling and just spent the past two weeks at a local writers’ residency but unfortunately had to move back so I can focus on my career of unemployment.

What I’m doing with my life

Honestly, I don’t know.

I’m really good at

Writing, editing my writing, and staring at my face in the mirror while contemplating the inner Congo of my insignificant but adverb-filled existence. I’m also really good at following up with my clients when I don’t receive an on-time and paid invoice. If you’re also here on OkCupid, Todd, can you please respond to any one of my 43 emails? It’s been four months and my landlord is no longer interested in receiving my rent in the form of foot massages.

The first thing people usually notice about me

The coffee stains on my Kirkland Signature sweatpants and my dark, mysterious eyes. They’re usually filled with tears and tend to glimmer with the faint hope that I will, one day, see a modicum of activity in my Wells Fargo account.

Favorite books, movies, shows, music, and food

Anything that boosts my mood and makes me stop thinking about how to level up my Chinese foot reflexology game. But I do enjoy the works of James Joyce, Haruki Murakami, and House Hunters.

The six things I could never do without

  • Coffee
  • On-time and paid invoices, Todd
  • Various forms of Internet “media”
  • Otis the opossum outside my apartment that devours my leftover pizza crusts
  • My friend Jerry who always proofreads my work because he’s my roommate and if he refuses to give me feedback on my writing then I hold his toothbrush as ransom
  • Cosplaying as “Sexy Invoice”

I spend a lot of time thinking about

Why I quit my stable job clerking for the DMV so I can pursue a profession in an industry that’s crowded with amateur food bloggers and George Saunders. I also spend a lot of time thinking about if Todd ever notices during our Skype calls that I’m not wearing my Costco sweatpants or if I’m whispering into my microphone “will you finally pay me if I gently rub your feet?”

On a typical Friday night I am

Trying to hit a deadline for my blog of four followers or hiding all of Jerry’s toothbrushes.

The most private thing I am willing to admit

I like to stare at myself in the mirror and look at all of the lines on my aging, desolate face. I count all of the lines, one by one, while whispering to myself, “you could have just continued being the most fiscally responsible employee of the month at the DMV in Tucson but nope! Instead, you decided to imprison yourself into a bottomless crucible of debt by pursuing an M.F.A., only to find yourself at the age of 39 freelancing for TMZ.”

I’m looking for

Somebody. Anybody. And perhaps even a benevolent alien lifeform out there in this indifferent universe that whispers into my ear every night, “Everything will be all right, just kiss me.” But if I had to be pragmatic: an on-time and paid invoice.

You should message me if

You have corporate health insurance.