Moving

I stuff my résumé into envelopes, and I calculate that if I buy stamps to send the envelopes I'll run out of money before my last school loan check arrives.

Boston University calls to say they can't send my check because I am not enrolled anywhere. "You are not a student," says the bursar.

I call Tano to cancel tonight’s date and every date for the rest of eternity. "You don't want to go out with me," I say. "I don't have my master's degree and I don't have rent for this apartment and I don't have a job."

He says, "Didn't you know all that when you moved here?"

We go out and I order tap water. He gets a main dish and two sides and I think he looks rich. He looks stable and well-fed; I want him to buy me dinner.

We go back to my apartment and have sex on the floor because there's nowhere to move if we unroll the bed.

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