Life is fundamentally imprecise. The Big Ten has 11 teams. L.A. has no lakes, and Utah has no jazz. Madison Square Garden is nowhere near Madison and is neither a square nor a garden. And now, LOD has a j-o-b.
Today I’m nursing a cocktail of equal parts excitement and unease, because as much as I look forward to the new gig, I’ve grown very attached to the simplicity of this carefree, hand-to-mouth lifestyle. I like that I can’t remember how my alarm clock works. I like shaving once a week. I don't even mind having no disposable income, because I don’t have to think about where to dispose of it. Most importantly, I like our current family dynamic, which is tightly knit and mutually respectful. Basically, I'm happy. And now that I have to shake things up, I’m feeling a little like a Dead Man Walking along the Green Mile.
I knew this couldn’t last forever, and I’ve at least found a way to get paid pretty well for something I love doing. So I probably won’t mind rising at that ungodly hour as much as I did at my old job, which was cubicular and stifling and utterly pointless. There’s also the steady hours and ample vacation, which will let me pal around with the kid while he’s still young enough to want me around.
So there it is. The air’s much better out of the closet. After the elephant shit hits the fan, it's back to commutation and dry cleaning—which isn’t really dry.
