No Creative Title.

It could be worse. Isn’t that what they always say?

I started writing this blog because my life was a series of interesting and regrettable choices that I wanted to document. I mentioned that I wouldn’t mock my current (now former) job because I was so grateful to have it. I make no promises with my current (still current) job, because why stifle all the fun?

I apologize profusely for my gross absence. I was in the process of making “good” decisions. I left a job where I was belittled and humiliated on a weekly basis (and I was one of the employees they liked). I began a career at a post-start-up start-up in Manhattan, getting on the rocketship (thank you, Sheryl Sandberg).

I dug up the old law school power suits, bought my commuter pass, and officially joined corporate America. Thus began the 7:13 daily train to Flatiron and weekly meetings in boardrooms with fancy water. It was everything I’ve ever wanted- to feel important, to look important. To work for a company that thinks I’m important. I still make shit money- very shit money. Shit enough to be stuck at home for at least another year because old, reliable Maddie Mustang won’t last another Winter season. I still hang out with the same group of degenerates. I’ll probably use their real names now because I’m too lazy to remember the old nicknames. I’m still single. Hurrah.

The good news for you is that I’m now bitter and cynical. Let’s be real- I still love Disney and believe in happy endings and blah, blah, bullshit. It’s just more exciting to be a raging bitch. Better for you, the readers. More stimulating for me, the writer.

The one promise I can give you is to attempt to write weekly. It’s not an altruistic promise- definitely selfish. This blog was my catharsis- my release from the suck. Now that I’ve completely sucked myself back in (ha ha ha), I need to get myself out again.

Welcome to the suck, kids.