For example. I was in the very beginning stages of sweating where my next paycheck would come from. Unemployment was running out, I hadn't really started looking for jobs, and there was still a whole summer ahead. Then I get a letter telling me that my unemployment got extended again. For another five months. Sweet right? And then a week ago I heard back from a random Craigslist job posting. I only submitted one resume, wrote a cheeky ass email, and figured it would never work anyway. As it turns out, the company is a tiny start up, needs the only marketable skills I really possess, and could possibly offer me a job soon.
So my biggest dilemma is figuring out if I should glide along for a few more months or get off my ass do something. To be honest, I don't have anything going on this summer, aside from hanging out, and I could probably use some structure to my day. I feel semi-ready to work again. Plus, working in a start up would allow me to throw a hundred and ten percent in, something that would make me work much harder, and much more motivated.
But oh that getting up pre-noon thing. It could be a kicker. I may leave it up to them. If they say "we want you," it'll be pretty stupid to turn it down, considering how easy it was to get the job. If they say "you suck," then my decision will be made. Let's go fates, tell me how my summer's going to be.
One thing I do know about my summer is that any time spent in San Francisco will be on George's couch. I've officially moved out of my studio in the Mission. The grand experiment of living alone lasted ten weeks, cost me three thousand dollars, and didn't really illuminate anything. Can I live by myself? I don't know, because I was hardly ever there. Now that I'm moved back into George's living room, I asked her, "Does it feel like I left?" Her answer was a joking, and honest, "No."
This past weekend, we took a much needed trip to Target and Costco, buying shoe racks, stackable boxes, and cubbies to put my things in. I don't think I'll move out again until I have a job. And even then, our living arrangement seems to be okay. It's senseless to throw $1200 down the tubes every month when I could just be subsidizing George's shopping habits -- which is what I'll be doing.
The thing is, as of maybe two weeks ago, I decided that I was unafraid of the Mission. I got totally comfortable walking around, I have meetings there all through the week, and I might really miss my go-to Mexican and Chinese restaurants down there. So I guess, in a way, I got something for my two and a half months of living "alone," even if it wasn't that much. I learned to ride the bus, I learned to like the Mission, and I learned that home ain't where you pay rent, but where you're most comfortable. Back to the Marina!
