I love everything about the Awl (and have been meaning to pitch them, too), but one of my favorite reads there has been Sam Biddle’s Diary of an Unemployed Class of ’10 Philosophy Major in New York City. Is it wrong to think it sounds like Goethe’s Werther? Just hope he doesn’t meet a woman named Lotte.
(N.B. Must be said that this strikes awfully close to home, having spent the better part of ’02 in a hot Brooklyn apartment wondering what it was I was going to do with my life.)