My life is balancing on one of those edge-of-the-cliff moments. I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so many choices, or my life was so full of promise. And yet I’m paralyzed by the sheer vastness of it all: walk through one door, and you turn your back on a dozen others. I’ve stopped, turned around, and gone back so many times, I wonder…would I be able to start again? If I could, if I could go back to the very start and choose from the very beginning, is this the place I’d find my way to again? Is this the place I’d choose?
I went to work at the market today, and I didn’t want to be there. I’ve already let go of that place, and thank GOD. And all of my co-workers are so kind, and so happy for me: they tell me they’ll miss me, and I believe them, and I believe that I will miss them, too, but I can’t pretend, even a little bit, to be sad that I’m leaving. My friends there that I’ve been closest to, the ones that I’ve known the longest, that I’ll miss the most: they treat me like I’m already gone. And I am.
I left early today. My incompetent manager had schedule way too many people in the afternoon again, and though we were decently busy, there just wasn’t enough work to keep everyone busy. I hate that. It bothers me if I don’t have anything to do and I’m just standing around, and it bothers me if I do have something to do and I have to watch other people stand around and goof off without me. So I told the shift lead that if there were too many people working, I would volunteer to leave, and he let me go. (He’s one of my favorites. He almost never says no to me, and so I try very hard not to ask when I know I shouldn’t.)
I thought: “It’s Friday. Who cares if I need the money, I have better things to do.”
And I did. But I’m not doing any of them. I’m not going to the writer’s talk I signed up for at the library, or the lesbian supper group I joined on a whim. I’m not calling my friends to see if they want to meet me for a drink so they can fill out the reference form I have for Teach 4 Detroit. (I’m supposed to go to their training tomorrow. Someone tell me I have to go.)
I’m not doing anything. I’m sitting here drinking a glass of red wine and waiting for something to happen. I can feel the edge of the cliff start to give way beneath my toes.
I want to volunteer for Teach 4 Detroit. I miss tutoring, and I miss kids, and it’s been ages since I’ve had a proper volunteer opportunity. I need to make myself get up tomorrow and go. (And then I have to help my friend at the pool. She coaches swimming for Special Olympics, and I told her I’d get in the water and lend a hand.)
I’ll work at the market again on Sunday.
Next Friday, I have orientation for my grad program. I’m already registered for the spring/summer and the fall semesters. (I’m taking a class on web design in the fall that I’m very excited for.) I have applied for and been approved for my financial aid. At the end of the month, they’ll send me whatever is left after my tuition is paid, and I’ll use it to buy books and a new computer.
At the library, I am in charge of ordering for a book group. I have two different collections to order for and five different budgets to work with. I’m in the process of re-designing all the libraries printed intruction materials regarding the computers. My co-worker and I are in charge of the adult Summer Reading program. We have crafts organized, and lectures scheduled; I’m trying to arrange for Amy Stewart, author of The Drunken Botanist, to Skype with us as part of a workshop on gardening.
AND YET. The cliff.