As you stare into the vacuum of his eyes

I hate this city, perhaps because I associate it with 10-hour work days, ugly buildings, and poorly planned roadways.
I hate this state, simply because it's neither of the places I relate myself to.
I hate these drivers, these awful, dangerous drivers. But I've never had to be a confident driver, anyway.

I want nothing more than to be back in New York, making my almost daily afternoon walk up West Broadway in the sun, and saying "hi" all my friends [Dolce & Gabbana, Ralph Lauren, Prada]. I dream about it. Really.

I keep telling myself I'm just working this town for all it's worth. My plan; I will be out of the office by August 1st, moving into my new apartment in New York with my real-life friends, in Chicago for Lollapalooza on the 3rd with Sara, and job searching when I get back in the city, but with a certain amount of leeway because of this banging summer job.

This will require me to save the money that I am making [with the exceptional purchases of a new digital camera, a plane ticket to Chi-town, and the music festival tickets], and that's possibly what I'm worst at.
How old am I again?