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and I’ve just gotten my second cup of coffee. I spent my morning in a book. I finished it and enjoyed every minute of it. But, by the end of it, I was more of stuck on the fact that the author moved to New York City when she was 24 and worked in publishing.
I’m dwelling on the job thing a lot, and the fact that my hopes were placed in this area. Before all of this however, I used to want to move to New York City. This was before I even had figured out what degree I would get and all of that. I just loved the city and found it inspiring and energizing when I visited. I figured at some point or another I would certainly live there for at least a year.
When I got into English and figured out I wanted to be an editor and possibly write, what better place to want to live. Publishing houses, among many other things, are there. Slowly my want to go there dwindled. It had nothing to do with anyone else (although now I would never want to live that far away from my parents) and everything to do with me.
I began to realize, while in college, that I truly love nature. Even just the simple things like actually having a backyard and an open field. Being out in the country on a dirt road surrounded by rolling hills or woods. Seeing the mountains around sunset. Sitting at the river. I honestly find nature to be an inspiration or at the least to give me a renewed hope in everything. There’s some kind of peace to be found there.
While I love this area, I sometimes do miss the area where I grew up. I wouldn’t be happy still living there, but I would like to live around their at some point in the future. Here, it’s crowded. People are terribly impatient and jets fly over quite often (which I’ve gotten fairly used to). Overall, it’s just different but in mostly good ways.
All of this really leaves me wondering how I still am a waitress. How long is it going to take me to find a job. Will I be happier than? Will I feel inspired? Is it all in my head when everything seems so mundane, and I can’t even write anything. I sometimes wonder if I’ll ever find a job, and then I wonder what it would be like if whatever I find doesn’t take away this monotonous feeling.
Without school and the discovery of new and wonderful things, I’ve come to an almost standstill. I could easily go get a book about something and find new material, but it isn’t like listening to and talking with a professor. Without all of that I need to figure out how to be happy and feel inspired.
I’m sometimes almost certain a job won’t take care of the way I feel now. I long to create something that will actually go somewhere.
It’s been a while.
On the job search front, I may’ve found something. I’m currently waiting to hear back about a job I applied to through a staffing agency. Either way the staffing agency has hired me. So regardless there is hope.
I’m utterly bummed out, as I work a bunch this weekend, while N is actually off. I managed to get rid of one shift but work Saturday and Sunday night. The Saturday shift is the worst because it is from 5 to 11 or later. I wasn’t aware of this whole “Valentine’s Day Weekend” thing. I seriously never thought about it or cared until I got to work and saw my schedule.
N and I had a bad fight last Saturday. It had a lot to do with all the stress of the previous week. To say the least, it was a doozy, so we were both really looking forward to this weekend. The one weekend he is off for the next month. On Sunday, before I went in and saw the schedule, I thought about going up to see my parents this weekend. I mean if I get a full-time job it is far less feasible that we’ll make it there, and my parents still hardly know N. I called N and talked to him (he had watch), and he thought it sounded good. I then called my mom and sister and told them we would probably be up this weekend. Then I began to really look forward to being “home” (I know I can’t really call it that anymore, but I feel like my parents’ house will always be “home” to me). And then I was the schedule and had the whole Valentine’s Day Weekend spiel given to me.
It pretty much ruined my night and the next day. I was so irritated. I guess I never thought much about Valentine’s Day or knew that there was a weekend dedicated to it. In the past I’ve generally been single or freshly out of a relationship or at the rough end of one. Hell, the first time I had a real boyfriend and was all in love, that’s when he cheated on me. Either way I never really gave two fucks about Valentine’s Day. Last year was the first time that it even mattered slightly, and I wrote N a heart-felt card and sent two origami hearts I made. He sent me more than a dozen of the most glorious roses I had ever laid eyes on.
All of this being said, we are going out to dinner tomorrow night for (surprise! surprise!) Valentine’s Day. You can scoff at and ponder my hypocrisy all you want. But even though N is calling it our date for Valentine’s Day, I’m fairly certain we would’ve gone out on a date this weekend either way. We haven’t done that in several weeks.
My sleep was ruined last night. I was awake often for no reason at all (thankfully my neighbors weren’t having a sex-fest like the previous night, which honestly grossed me out). What kept coming to my mind was that I work doubles today and that some asshole hit my car and left–without leaving a note or anything.
Yesterday afternoon was great. I left work realizing that I seriously like the coworkers at this job more than I’ve ever liked any other set of coworkers. I had grocery shopping plans and figured I’d stop at the bank and get rid of several small pay checks I had. I stood in line for 20 minutes to deposit 29 measly dollars. When I get back out to my car it has a large dent in the side. No note, nothing. No one came up to me either.
I feel like anyone would be deeply pissed about a situation like this. But pair this with the fact that just a few weeks ago we dumped several hundred dollars into fixing this car after an incident (which I was at fault in), and it was enough to make me so angry that I was near tears (yes, I’m overly emotional… I guess…). I’ve had this car for only a few months. It’s brand fucking new. For all of my years of driving, I was cruising around in an ancient Volvo tank (god, I really miss that car sometimes) and didn’t have shit happen. I get a new, perfect car and suddenly I have a target on my back, or my car does. What is this???
Some kind of twisted karma? Is some greater being laughing at my exasperation? I highly doubt it but what coincidence. I wonder if that person even thought about leaving a note. Or thought about the fact that that car is probably paid for with someones hard-earned money. Or that they were ruining someones day (which, for me, turned into ruining a night of peaceful sleep as well). Never be the person who does this to someone.
The police officer I talked to said it was highly unlikely they would find out who did it. Sometimes people (witnesses) will call in or leave a note with a business where they saw something like this happen, but probably no one saw anything (his thoughts… I kind of think perhaps someone saw and couldn’t give two fucks). All I got from the whole conversation was amazement that a police officer is more optimistic than I am.
