Gary reminded me this evening that I have a job waiting for me if I want it but I don’t want it and when I left that job i was so happy to be leaving it behind with no intention of returning and I think I’d rather die than go back.
Obviously I would rather sit around doing nothing, earning nothing, than go back but goddammit, it has nothing to do with working there because it wasn’t even that bad, it wasn’t intolerably bad, it’s just I hate everything and especially people so of course it was bad for me. But it’s more of what it represents: going backwards. I don’t want to go backwards. Maybe I’m just afraid that I’ll go backward and never actually get out of that and just stay there.
And I know I have to backtrack a little to move forward, but I guess I’m just scared that if I go back I won’t get out of it. I guess I’m just afraid that if i go back to the comfortable small town so picturesque you’d think it was out of a movie, that I wouldn’t be getting out a second time.
You know how that adage goes, “get out of house before you find something worth staying it for” or something like that. I’ve gotten out and I need to stay out but I also need to do something because trying to find work just isn’t working out.