On the one hand, I had fallen to the point where, in the middle of what should have been a work day, I was scrubbing the stovetop in my underwear with a shredded paper towel.
On the other hand, I was going on dates with professional women, farcically extolling my career as an “experience consultant.” On the one hand, I slept fitfully until ten, evaluating the cost-benefit ratio of staying in bed to masturbate, or getting up to make coffee and watch TV. On the other hand, I went to the gym a lot, and cooked fancy tomato sauces. On the one hand, when people asked me what I did all day long, I either said I was “working on my writing” or “setting up” my new apartment. On the other hand, I knew I could just sell my apartment and go anywhere, anywhere but here. I explained all this to the Peruvian while she curled her legs around mine. “First world problems,” she said.
David tries to find a way back home.