Magic Christians Chew the Rind

Monday, September 03, 2007

Don't let our youth go to waste.

I really don't know how I've managed to corral such good karma, but I must be doing something right. After three days of working at Voertman's, after the post-hiring discovery that I was merely a "temporary employee" brought on for the back-to-school rush, I got a phone call from an unknown number. I rarely answer my phone when I get calls from people I like, let alone numbers I don't even recognize; but, for some reason, I answered this one. It was the manager of Art Six, a local coffee bar in Denton, and he was offering me a job.

I'd turned in my resume almost a month prior and had, by that point, put the entire prospect out of my head. I never get my hopes up if I can help it. The universe really came through on this one, and it didn't do such a bad job when I fell in love with the job and the people (or when I passed the excruciatingly nerve-racking efficiency test and was officially brought into the fold.)

But, still.

I've got this job that most would kill for. I'm going to school at UNT, my self-described dream university, and I'm living in Denton. This is the life I was pining for not six months ago. Why do I still feel like half a person? And, almost more importantly, why am I not surprised?

Even on those bitterly cold nights driving through central Oklahoma, swooning over "It's Gonna Take an Airplane" and imagining the indescribable bliss of getting the hell out of Dodge, I knew the move would fix nothing. I even halfway knew I would immediately begin the process of romanticising Ada. I knew I'd miss the simplicity, the comfort of being surrounded by nothing. I knew I'd grow quickly calloused, unamused by and completely over the cold pretentiousness of the fleeting music snobs and intellectuals. But I still did it.

Was it to prove to myself that I could be spontaneous? That I, like so many others, had the courage to flop awkwardly into the deep end with no regard for anything but the act of it? For the sake of my own mental health, I wish I could answer this question. I have no idea why I'm here, and I've never felt farther from home.

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