The lightened load at work has turned out to last longer than I thought it would. In some ways, this is nice -- "more time to be creative," as my friend Jake says. And he's right, but on the other hand, with about 10 hours less per week than I'm used to, I'm taking a 30% cut on my paychecks. I still have bills to pay, and I'm trying to save what money I can for moving.
The problem is that they've restructured the managerial hierarchy at my store and my position is no longer full-time with benefits. I was grandfathered in because they didn't want to demote me, but in essence they're slowly doing just that. As of January first I was no longer guaranteed full time hours (though the last GM [who transferred to another store] was pretty good about giving them anyway) and as of June I'll no longer earn PTO. So it's pretty much a sinking ship. Good thing I'll be jumping ship soon.
I've started going through my stuff here at the house, attempting the daunting task of sorting it into three categories: what I want to take with me, what I want to store at my parents' house for the next three years, and what I want to just get rid of. And a lot of things fall into the grey area. For example, a tote of scrap fabric: do I bring it with me and anticipate that I'll have the time/desire to do sewing projects? I'm bringing my sewing machine, of course, for practical reasons. And my books: do I only bring the ones I haven't read? Only enough to fit on my bookshelf? Or should I leave the bookshelf and buy another once I get to Baltimore (since I'm going to need another anyway, whenever I settle down)? Three years is a long time. I know I'll be coming back to Michigan periodically, and that if there's anything I can't live without I can get it then... I think I just hate packing and unpacking. I am getting rid of a few things altogether (like some of the endless supply I call my wardrobe). It might help me make a few extra bucks for moving. EBay, here I come...
One thing that's had me in a pretty cheerful mood the last few days though is a story I started writing on Saturday. I finished a draft on Monday and started typing it up; I'd say it's probably the longest completed story draft I've ever done. I'm afraid, though, that it might turn into a novel. I don't want it to be a novel. It's a lot harder to get people to read a novel than it is a short story; they don't publish novels in literary magazines.
Don't get me wrong, one of my life goals is to write a novel. But maybe after I've made some kind of name for myself.
I'm probably worrying needlessly; the whole thing will probably only be 15-20 single-spaced pages completed. I just hope the people reading it are as absorbed as I was when writing it. It's nice to take a break from poetry; I'm going to be writing a lot of that once school starts.