Today I said goodbye to a number of customers, letting them know that I’m making my transition out of retail.
“What’s next?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you just work one hour on Sunday mornings so we can talk?”
or
“You’re kidding, right?”
or
“You’re killing me here.”
Yeah… I made the difficult decision to leave a job I love. My feet hurt and I swear I saw spider veins forming on my leg last week. I wake up tired and sore every morning and don’t get rested after a day off. I haven’t been able to accept dinner invitations more than a few days in advance and even if I had plans, there was no gaurentee I would have the energy.
I’ve also not written in the last year. Nothing creative, aside from this blog. My screenplay? in a drawer. My children’s book? In a notebook. My new bits and jokes? unwritten.
So I’ll be leaving the shop in one more week. To what? I don’t know. I am going to an informational interview in the morning. The possibility? Legal Secretary.
For now I’m going to try on outfits and think about the fact that I haven’t had an interview in Three Years. Shit.
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