when it rains…
Don’t talk to me today. I refuse to answer the telephone anymore because it seems that each time I answer the telephone, my horribly, shoddily laid plans are thrown into disarray.
I’ve been looking into moving to Seattle for a few weeks now. Looking into housing, neighborhoods, Starbucks locations, potential shelters, highway overpasses, cardboard box recyclers, etc. I was all set to sell all of my belongings, drive to Seattle, drop what I brought into a storage locker for a while, then head to Vancouver for a few weeks before returning to Seattle and finding a new job earning minimum wage, taking my career into a new direction.
Then.
Then.
Then, I received a call, out of the blue from a firm (a large multi-national firm, dream-job, massive pay raise, all that good stuff) about a position in San Diego, CA. With this information, I began to look south, for housing, neighborhoods, muscle daddies, Starbucks, high-end furniture shops, etc. I had planned my trip west with a stop in St. Louis to say hello/goodbye to a few people before heading to Tucson to say hello/goodbye to the beautiful, talented, sexy, sweet, adorable Homer, then to Phoenix for a little visit with John, my beloved web designer and his partner, and my dear friend Jason. After wearing out my welcome there, it would be off to Los Angeles The Valley to stay with TLBO for a few days on my way to San Diego.
Then.
Then.
Then, I receive a telephone call canceling the meeting from the person I was meeting about the San Diego position. Sad, upset, angry, unsure and lost, I escaped into a night filled with alcohol, fantastic food and retail therapy to right myself and feel better. Thanks Tom.
Then.
Then.
Then, I receive a call from a customer. A very good customer. This customer has increased business considerably in the last two months, perhaps allowing me to actually meet my quota for the first time in two years. Today’s call was to inform me that they would like me to bid on a few small aircraft charters. Like 3 DC-9’s a week from Michigan to Oakland, CA. Three planes a week, at roughly $80,000 each. My numbers would go thru the roof with this and make any move to the west coast a complete idiotic move.
So now I’m lost.
Am I driving to the Beautiful Pacific North West, the magnificent sunny Southern California, or a new apartment here in the alternating cold/humid closed-minded Midwest?
What is a boy to do?
up, up, in the air
My meeting last night was canceled at the last minute leaving me sitting in my office all day long in a suit. Yes, I actually spent the entire day in the office yesterday. The operations staff is short-handed due to vacations and the night guy resigning, so we sales staff offered to pitch in and help answer phones and whatnot.
So my Monday was a waste. I didn’t get any work done, I didn’t get my tattoo finished (like originally planned), and I didn’t have my meeting. I was very very down after work until Tom invited me to dinner. He took me to the Adobo Grill here in Chicago on Wells St at North Avenue. We had margaritas and 2 servings of their amazing guacamole before we headed to the wireless store to see Larry, the employee there. Tom and I both have a sort of crush on Larry, cause, well, he’s HOT. We’ve been in that store so many times buying new phones, headsets and carrying cases. Last night, I joined the nation of Lt, Uhura wannabes and got myself a Blue Tooth headset. (I’m going shopping for the micro-mini-skirt this weekend. I hope I can find all man-made materials still)
Walking out of the wireless store, Tom and I realized at about the same time, that we’ve run out of reasons to go visit Larry. Perhaps we’ll have to start returning items for exchange.
Either way, the dinner and the visit with Larry lifted my spirits and allowed me to sleep last night without worrying too much about what my new future holds for me.
Although, it is much more up in the air than it has ever been before.