Yesterday. Sunday. I had awakened in the afternoon after a seven hour sleep - heavily embraced after a weekend of working the door at Madison Pub. It was my only day off. There lay before me a shortlist of things to do: search for an apartment online or search for one by walking through Capitol Hill, going to the movies, laying around and watching movies, reading or trying to write. I awaited the response from an apartment manager who posted an ad on Craigslist, yet told me that she would probably cut out her afternoon showing of the apartment. From her peculiar response to my interest in her apartment (as well as another apartment manager's response earlier the week before), I had wondered if I should just try to rent one of those new and inexpensive Apodments so that I could sock some more cash away until a more decent apartment opened up and I could buy some decent furniture.
Since my return to Seattle, I have often asked myself why I moved away while mentally slapping my own face. But that question only comes from the frustrations I get after confronting issues and moments that only the remnants of relocation can bring.
I took the bus into the city - as I am now stationed in Burien with the only person willing to put me up until I was settled - and listlessly looked around for any hint of a 'for rent' sign, stopped in at Value Village and ended up at Madison Pub with half of a pizza from Piecora's. My further plans for the rest of the day were to finish a pitcher of beer, stop in at the market and then settle in my room with a movie before bed. My roommate showed up and I ended up at The Cuff with some friends.
The evening was progressing, well, rather slow with forced interludes of jovial quips, funny accusations and a drop of processed drama. I scanned the growing crowd inside of the bar, not looking forward to the long commute back to Burien and cursing myself from not following through with my original plans. I watched as this guy who used to work at my gym and who has since become a porn star and whom I had met 4 or 5 times previously (in both seattle and san francisco) walk into the bar. A few weeks earlier I had taken it upon myself to stop playing some kind of game where we would always introduce ourselves to each other and pretend not to have met beforehand. One night, I just walked up to him, smiled and shook his hand. He seems to have gotten used to the situation of being somewhat rather hidden from me (is this personal?) and he ignored my request to be friends on Facebook. I would not give him attitude, but neither would I make some game an ongoing event. I had enough of that crap the first time I lived here. I did not greet him.
When I had finally drank the last of my beer and walked downtown and caught the next to last bus back to Burien, a sudden dark cloud had appeared above me...I would have to go to work tomorrow. I had gotten a new job at a tiny law firm that specializes in foreclosure law and collections. My beginnings there brought many a doubt upon myself and a few groans of skeptical confidence. I hate collections and vowed that I would never return to a job in collections. However, this was a job. I do part time work at my beloved Madison Pub, but that part time work is not enough to keep me warm, dry and fed. My dream upon my return to Seattle was to work part-time at the Pub and find a part-time job to balance it all out. However, my resume caught the attention of a few. Most of my friends were (are) concerned about my well-being at my new gig. I like the people, they are awesome. It's great to have a full-time job. But I don't like it. I will continue to plug away. I will continue to learn all that I can - and, believe me, it seems as if they're trying to stuff years of knowledge into four weeks of time since the girl I am replacing will be leaving this week. I will continue to work there unless they let me go. I don't like it...my heart just isn't in it, but I will endure it.
As I walked to the bus stop this morning on my way to work, I called and left a message with the people at Apodments. I had spoken with them before, but a couple of wires seem to have gotten crossed. Later, on my lunch break, I spoke with someone and he assured me that he would see if he could find me a place for next month. At this time I don't' care what I get, as long as I can stay there six months until I will be completely ready to get a new place. I think six months will also be something of a time to decompress. Since my mother's death in April I have been constantly going and moving and working...barely able to catch up; only able to mourn my mother when I can catch a little time and my mind runs a bit free and I remember her.
As of this posting, I just want to kick back and do my duties at my day job and then work at the Pub on the weekends and read and write land watch movies in between. Most of my time is spent on buses going back and forth from Burien to Seattle and have 2 or 3 hour long conversations with my friend who is putting me up.
Today. Monday. I have just gotten off work at the law firm. I'm mentally exhausted and I want a cocktail, but I have to catch a bus...
I'm facing life and all it's fun and obstacles. I am happy. I just can't wait to be even more happy...
When I had finally drank the last of my beer and walked downtown and caught the next to last bus back to Burien, a sudden dark cloud had appeared above me...I would have to go to work tomorrow. I had gotten a new job at a tiny law firm that specializes in foreclosure law and collections. My beginnings there brought many a doubt upon myself and a few groans of skeptical confidence. I hate collections and vowed that I would never return to a job in collections. However, this was a job. I do part time work at my beloved Madison Pub, but that part time work is not enough to keep me warm, dry and fed. My dream upon my return to Seattle was to work part-time at the Pub and find a part-time job to balance it all out. However, my resume caught the attention of a few. Most of my friends were (are) concerned about my well-being at my new gig. I like the people, they are awesome. It's great to have a full-time job. But I don't like it. I will continue to plug away. I will continue to learn all that I can - and, believe me, it seems as if they're trying to stuff years of knowledge into four weeks of time since the girl I am replacing will be leaving this week. I will continue to work there unless they let me go. I don't like it...my heart just isn't in it, but I will endure it.
As I walked to the bus stop this morning on my way to work, I called and left a message with the people at Apodments. I had spoken with them before, but a couple of wires seem to have gotten crossed. Later, on my lunch break, I spoke with someone and he assured me that he would see if he could find me a place for next month. At this time I don't' care what I get, as long as I can stay there six months until I will be completely ready to get a new place. I think six months will also be something of a time to decompress. Since my mother's death in April I have been constantly going and moving and working...barely able to catch up; only able to mourn my mother when I can catch a little time and my mind runs a bit free and I remember her.
As of this posting, I just want to kick back and do my duties at my day job and then work at the Pub on the weekends and read and write land watch movies in between. Most of my time is spent on buses going back and forth from Burien to Seattle and have 2 or 3 hour long conversations with my friend who is putting me up.
Today. Monday. I have just gotten off work at the law firm. I'm mentally exhausted and I want a cocktail, but I have to catch a bus...
I'm facing life and all it's fun and obstacles. I am happy. I just can't wait to be even more happy...
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