"Sometimes all I want is to head West on 20 in a car I can't afford, with a plan I don't have, just me, my music, and the road."Lochlan, to his credit, has been very gracious with everyone. Moreso than he used to be, maybe he is mellowing after all. Maybe he has faith in me and in our grand plan to rule the world, or at least our experience of it as I embark on yet another item on the big list of the life that points us toward our dreams.
The Collective isn't forever. It never was. We know that. We understand that, as does everyone here. It's a stepping stone, a fun time, a helping hand living here where things cost so damned much. Everyone saves money if we all live together and no one has to be alone. The army will stand fast while I weather this long season of Life After Jacob, and the transition back to weirdness that was always the plan. But not quite yet.
In other ways, sooner than we think.
I may have rushed a little part of it. Walking the house spending time talking with everyone, painting a little, writing a little, trying to catch up on sleep and affection, being so OCD with chores and being Organized isn't all that productive. I needed to check off something on my list that would throw all that into the sea. That item that's been waiting for me. Get on with it, Bridge.
I got a job.
And it's not an executive job, no sir.
And I didn't have recommendations or networks. No one's lending me out. No vulture capitalists are involved. No pretty clothes and lovely desks are involved. Oh, you're going to laugh, just as the boys laughed when they realized I wasn't kidding before they turned super-serious.
Aw, Bridge, they all said. You don't need to do this.
But I do.
I got an entry-level job. Working for minimum wage. At a restaurant not all that far from home. Taking orders, pouring coffee, as the owner decided I needed to be the first person people see when they come in. Wearing sturdy black non-slip shoes and a contrastingly pretty apron and dress with my notepad and my bottomless freshly-made coffee pot in hand.
Yup. Me.
I was too busy to hate it until I walked out at the end of my first shift and It hit me that I didn't really learn enough to go back, but I will be returning. Tomorrow. Already.
Yes, I cried on the drive home.