THIS THING I HAD TO DO

I was completely alone and lost and living in the tiniest apartment you've ever seen on the upper west side with no kitchen and only one small window with a glorious view of nothing but the filthy bricks of the next building. I was in my mid 20s and had absolutely no friends but other models that talked incessantly about nothing but chicks and modeling. In hindsight, I was probably suffering from my first real bout of depression as well as the brutal sting of the reality of having absolutely no idea what to do with myself but to just keep doing what I was doing which was only digging me in further, making things worse. Then one day I woke up and started walking. I walked and walked without direction or any destination in mind. I tried not to think much. I just walked. I did this for days, going into bars and book stores and galleries. I talked to no one. My pager would go off from the agency but I wouldn't respond. Finally, maybe a month later, my money started to run out. I called the agency. "Where the hell have you been?! screamed my agent. "I'm really sorry, I just, you know, I had this thing I had to do."