I put my notice in at work today. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. I love my job. I love the people I work with. And being employed by Harvard University has its perks as you can imagine. I have an excellent working relationship with my boss. Yet I'm sitting in his office explaining to him why after only a year of service I am leaving.
It felt like breaking up for no good reason. "Listen, honey -- I need to go sow some wild oats, okay?" I've never been one for long-distance relationships. I mean, what's the point? Even if I wanted to try and make things work, I'd find it pretty hard to be handling proposals, writing letters and FedExing from my apartment on the West coast. So for now it's Just Friends.
People at work say, you're young -- live it up. Do it while you can. This is the best time of your life. Which in some ways is true. I've heard it said that high school is the best time of your life. If that had turned out to be true, I'd have the revolver handy. And then others are of the opinion that college is the best years of your life. To tell you the truth, this year's been pretty damn good. For all I've been through, and let me tell you there's been a LOT, I feel like things keep getting better. So far it's the best time of my life. But I have the feeling I'm not the kind of person who's going to turn 35 and look back and think my life has gone down the toilet just because I'm 10 years older.
Eventually you are claimed by kids, mortgages, careers… but all I'm responsible for right now is a bunny, a 1995 Altima, and my uncertain future in journalism.
It's beautiful out today. I'm sitting in the open-garage door of Diesel Cafﾈ in Davis Sq., Somerville. I got no place to be. It's spring. Cat Power is playing in my head right now.
YOU. ARE. FREE.
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I'm torn between weeping nostalgically for my lost youth (having since become bound by marraige and mortgage) and doing the yippee-skippee dance for you. HURRAY! Does this mean you'll be around on Monday?