OK, fine, I surrender

I actually had to hold back tears today when my new manager handed me an apron and asked me wipe off tables and restock coffee condiments in the lobby.

Yep, that's right. New York - you won.

I am a college-educated journalist with five years of experience living in a city with a publishing house on every other corner and I can't land a "real job" - or even a job as an intern.

So out of desperation and exasperation, I shelved my college education to ask customers if they would like their coffee for here or to go.

Now don't get me wrong - there is absolutely NOTHING wrong with working at a coffee shop. It's just not me. It's not my dream. It's not where I have envisioned myself at this stage of my life - especially now when I'm living in a city of opportunity for a limited time only. Plus, coffee always gives me a stomachache.

I guess I just expect greatness out of myself - or at the very least some success for crying out loud. And I'm failing.

I mean, what if Vincent van Gogh put his paintbrushes in a closet to work at a college snack shop (work with me here - I'm trying to make a point)? Or what if Stephen King assumed no one would want to read horror stories? Just to clarify - I'm NOT saying I'm even allowed to mention my name anywhere NEAR names like van Gogh or King, but you get what I'm getting at.

But what I've learned since moving here in December is a girl living in New York City has gotta have health insurance and a steady paycheck - things I haven't had since early November. My bank account shows it. My prescriptions are getting dangerously low.

And on top of that, a 120-pound Golden Retriever recently barreled into my right knee and forced it to bend a bit in the wrong direction. Luckily, the pain went away after a few days of icing it with frozen broccoli and taking lots of aspirin. But what if the mangy canine had caused a torn ligament or a broken ankle?

So until a publishing house gives me a chance to show them that I will be a valuable part of their team, I'll be wiping up coffee spills along with a few of my tears.

On the plus side, the fiance has been so supportive and appreciative that I'm not accepting unemployment with the occasional freelance paycheck as my job at the moment that it almost makes it seem worthwhile.

Almost.