Standing there at the window . . . all I can think of is, What the actual hell is my life about? Am I really going to just live here in New Haven, alone with cooking projects, waiting to be employed? Am I going to always be looking out the window at other people having real lives, real love? Why the hell am I living in thrall to a man who runs in and does a quick, jiffy rendition of sex, and then runs back to his family?
