I have lived in this area for too damn long. But I won’t be moving out of my parents’ house until May 2020 at the earliest... After work, my boyfriend and I went out to eat. We did normal things, like getting out of the parked car and walking toward the restaurant. But then I did a very weird thing and hid between my boyfriend’s car and the car parked next to us. I dropped down so fast I somehow scratched my arm. My ex-boyfriend was outside the restaurant we were walking toward. My boyfriend didn’t recognize him though and was wildly confused with my disappearing act. I felt too exposed, so I squeezed into the backseat of his car and he called me, acting as my eyes that my ex had left.
Look, I’m an avoider. As dramatic as I am, I just don’t handle that shit. And this shit would have been the polite-Christian-obligation kind and I don’t have the time to play that game. Besides, I would not have played along. I would have not acknowledged this fool’s presence. And that would get around, me being a bitch to someone I dated six or so years ago, because women aren’t allowed to have boundaries. They are not allowed to own their time in that world. I think not talking to someone talking to you is rude, not bitchy, but not in that world, a world you and I have left behind. I haven’t been to church for three months. It’s amazing. I can’t force myself back into that box for a couple hours, and I certainly won’t waste the energy for this dude.
That restlessness has settled in deep again, or deeper than before. I’m twiddling my thumbs until the library assistant list gets posted, or a librarian trainee position. Or until I graduate in May. Or until the librarian list gets posted after I graduate. Living at home is pressing on me. I love my part time job, my little corner desk with MY knick knacks, my coworkers who all really like me. But I’m forcing myself to pick up sub shifts at other branches, now that my one and two credit classes are completed. I’ll be working 157 seven hours in November; I’m only allotting myself one hundred and fifty dollars from that paycheck, the rest going to loans. I am going to go shopping. Buy a few pieces of clothes that I like. Not that I know what I like… I’m not ruled by modesty rules and I’m as thin as I’ve been since early high school. Clothes are designed for my size, yet I don’t know what my aesthetic is. I have my work look, I know what I like wearing at work and have those items together in my closet. I’m not wearing the clothes I won’t wear to work on my days off. Just lounging around in pajamas. I need pants that fit good. Sweaters to cuddle inside. Things I want to wear, not clothes too fancy to do house chores in.
If I can carve away at that loan number I can get out of this house faster when I get a fulltime paycheck. I’m banking on that happening November 2019. But I could get a librarian trainee position in December, which is 32 to 40 hours. I could suffer through my last semester of grad school for a paycheck that size. For moving my timeline up. Jesus this obsession can’t be healthy. I’m just. grasping what I have control over. And I hardly have control of that. Who knows if that position will get posted or if I will be the most qualified applicant. Who knows.
I used to comfort myself with “God knows, He has a whole plan for you.” I could trust in that plan I didn’t know. But that’s gone now. So I obsess over my budget and my estimated payoffs. I’m trying to shift some of that attention to graduating in May, to my visit to Oregon. To planning something a little more tangible.
Let’s call soon,
-Rachel