This was the morning I was meant to have: waking up warm beside Nico. Home last night, I couldn’t sleep, so I texted him at 2am. Immediately, he replied, “Can I come over?”
Nico brought a slick black envelope from Australia. Inside were a pair of leggings. After mourning the wear-and-tear on my beloved polka dot leggings, he’d set out to surprise me with a similar pair. There’s not enough space on the internet to describe how thankful I am for him, sometimes.
We had sex for the third time in 24 hours. We lunched at Gemini diner; I ordered the chocolate chip pancakes I’d craved at 4AM, slathered with butter and salt.
6:34PM, a 646 number calls.
“This is — from — Casting Agency. Are you available next Wednesday through Saturday for Girls?”
“It’s a four day shoot,” the agent says. “You’ll be playing a GQ writer. They need someone tall and attractive, who can pull off the wardrobe.”
So excited! But my new job. I needed time to think. I said I’d have to check with work.
The agent said I could call back.
I called Mom, I called Nico but neither answered. So I sent a text. Ummm I just got a really exciting call from a casting agency. I know you’re with your friend but I need help thinking up an excuse to get out of work for 4 days.
–Tell them it’s women issues?
For four days??
It’s for HBO’s Girls
–Is it an audition or extra?
She said the role is for a GQ writer, and I have to commit to all 4 days.
–Really? Babe this is alot for me to comprehend right now
My mother laughed at this, later. She said he was probably jealous.
I made up my mind to delay my new job and take the role, but it was too late. I called back 1.5 hours later–the role was filled. “I can get you on the show again,” the agent said.
I was so angry at myself. I called Mom, confessed I wouldn’t be shooting next week, after all. I’ve got to stop being indecisive.
“You think everything you have to decide between will have major impact on your life,” my mother said. “But very few decisions we have to make will have a major impact on our lives.”
“How can that be true?” I asked. “I decided to leave Bloomingdale’s one day because I wanted to eat lunch at home, and then I met my boyfriend in the subway. What would have happened if I hadn’t decided to stop shopping?”
I can’t be convinced that the simple things don’t matter and this, this is a decision between two roles in life, two different lives. I am leaving a cushy corporate maître d’ job to manage an independent restaurant–a dream which interferes with other dreams. But how can I have everything?
–You can totally be a GQ writer. I’m your boyfriend, Nico texted later.
In misery I replied my resolve, but still, I’m unsettled.