Apparently I ooze desperation.
Every time I go out with anyone who is somewhat employed, I am greeted with sad eyes. Then: “Hey! How ARE you doing?” as though my existence while not working in an office is strange to comprehend.
“Fine!” I exclaim, a bright delusional smile on my face. “You know, making it work, paying my rent…”
Sympathetic nods of approval. How very proud they are of their cute little creative friend!
But feeling pitied is exhausting. So I prefer to veer the conversation toward anything but what I do for a living. Gossip Girl always seems to do the trick.