06/30/00 My last, final, ending day at The Firm
This day comes with such mixed feelings. I hate this job. This job has been the source of so much anger, so much frustration, so many feelings of inadequacy, so much unnecessary stress. In a lot of ways, I think it has been this job that has been holding me back, preventing me from really "moving ahead" in my life and in my thinking. Thus, it gotta go.
Endings are scary, because for each ending, there is a beginning out there waiting to happen. I always approach beginnings with some trepidation. Unfortunately, I usually don't approach them with enough trepidation, which is how I've ended up with sanity-depleting jobs and self-respect depleting relationships. The trepidation never lasts long enough for me to actually see the forest beyond the trees.
And this is, indeed, a whole new beginning. I'm taking a job. Not a career builder, not a "foot in the door," just a JOB. Which takes a whole lot of weight off my shoulders, oddly enough. It's also a job that I can essentially do with my eyes closed, and I've done it before, so it's not like I'm taking up welding or something else with disaster potential. (Well, with me, I suppose EVERYTHING has disaster potential, but you get my meaning.)
Besides taking a job, I'm embarking on a search for myself. As 70's California as that may sound. I've been thinking a lot in the last few days about some of the things I've touched on in the last six months--who I am, who I want to be, how great the distance is between those two and how I plan to get there. Do I want this relationship with Megan? Do I want a relationship with anyone, for that matter, or do I finally want to realize complete emotional (and financial) independence, to really learn what it's like to be able to stand on my own? What do I want to be when I grow up, or specifically, what career choice can I make that won't force me to either live like a peasant or sacrifice my integrity?
I've also been thinking about this journal. This isn't really what I'd had in mind when I started it. I didn't plan to do run-of-the-mill timeline accounts of my days. I didn't plan on really posting any "identifying" information about myself, really. That all just kind of "happened." And one thing led to another, and, well...isn't it cute the way a snowball, given the proper-sized hill, can eventually grow to wipe out an entire ski village? Not that I wanted to go the opposite extreme, and become some vague, wispy, mystery-chick penning elusive tomes of watercolor and incense. I like Stevie Nicks, but I'm not Stevie Nicks. I do believe, however, that too much truth will not set you free, it will only imprison you, and force you to become anchored in the monochromatic empty space we like to refer to as "the real world."
So this is my last entry, at least for a while, because I'm leaving for sunny Florida tomorrow, and won't be back until the 11th or 12th. Whether or not I return to this particular space is yet to be determined. I will, I'm sure, be out there somewhere...this is too good a medium for me, I've found, and in my present situation of chaos, one of the few things I have in life to ground myself. If I don't return to this site, I don't plan to link back to this site, so if you're absolutely dying to "read" my "voice," let me know.
The cool chicks in the office (there aren't many of them, but a few) bought me a cake (with a dog on it, ha!) and flowers in celebration of my last day. They're also taking me to lunch today, and another group is buying me drinks after work. Either I have friends here, or they're just really, really fucking glad I'm quitting! Hmmm...Caleb and I are supposed to be going out boozing tonight... It seems like I'll be consuming an awful lot of liquor today for someone who's going to be driving for at least 12 hours the next night... oh, well, screw it, you only live once.
Yes, I did see Zak yesterday. Conversations that take like, 10 minutes for normal people take us around 2 days to complete. He asked me yesterday, "so how old are you?" I told him. I also told him that I was born eight days prior to his 11th birthday, just to impress him with my mathematical skills. It turns out that October 29 is also his mother's birthday. Small fuckin' world, isn't it? We talked more, just about stupid things like high school and family and working. He told me that his first "real" job involved being a file clerk for an insurance agency. He created the filing system for them. They loved him. He hated it. It's so good for me to finally meet an intelligent person who, by normal social standards, is considered an idiot and a loser. What the fuck do the "normal social standards" count for, anyway? By normal social standards, I'm a psychopath who should probably be locked in a padded cell for a long, long time.
I found myself thinking yesterday, "I don't want to fall in love with him." Then I began to ask myself why. All the "typical" things started to fill my brain...he's a fugitive from the Internal Revenue Service (hasn't filed a tax return in, oh, ten years)...he's a fugitive from just about every taxing organization around (owns a beat-up pickup truck with a friend's name on the title, doesn't have insurance on it or on anything else for that matter)...he smokes way, way too much pot...he doesn't have a steady source of income... And then I started to ask myself, "why does any of that matter? You're not looking for a stable hubby to father your 3.2 children and buy you a house with a white picket fence. If you're going to be truly 'independent,' can't you fall in love with whoever you want?"
Why yes...I suppose I can. But love is sticky. Love is complicated. Love takes an otherwise good thing and turns it into horseshit. Love is grossly overrated. Love is what drives cab drivers to drink and poets to suicide. Can we just be "friends with privileges?" Tacky, yes; detached, yes; callous, yes; all of those things and more. But infinitely safer for everyone involved.
After all, I love Megan...and look how that turned out. But I really don't want to get into that. We're doing okay. She told me last night, when I asked her why she seemed down, that "you seem happier now that we've broken up." In a lot of ways, yes, I am. But in a lot of ways, too, I realize that I've lost something that either could have been or was wonderful, and that I can never get it back, and that hurts more than any happiness I may be experiencing. But I know leaving her is what has to be done. For the sake of both of us. Because I don't think that together, we would both be able to realize our dreams. Apart, we at least have a shot.
I don't want to fall in love with Zak. Falling in love puts dark glasses over what would otherwise be clear vision. When you fall in love, everything takes on that melancholy, "the-world-is-about-to-end" quality that overshadows even those things that first attracted you to the person. And I don't want that. I don't want to forget the way his eyes lower when he's embarrased. I don't want to forget that this is a man who spent his childhood in a "home for wayward youth," dropped out of high school, nearly got a perfect score on the GED exam, went to college, dropped out, and manages to be relatively self-sufficient, has enough money to support himself and his medically challenged dog, and seems to know the score. I don't want to forget that this guy who professes to hate everything and everybody takes time out of his day to hug and kiss each of my three dogs and won't even let his own dog hurt baby rabbits.
I don't know what happens from here. When I figure it out, I'll be sure to let you know.
But wait, there's more...