Carla walked by the restaurant at around 10:30 last night. I was switching over from dinner to the next day's brunch shift, and happened to be right by the window. She looked at my strangely, smiled, and ran inside to give me a hug and catch up. See, she use to work there with me. I've been there since late July of 2003, and, the best that I can recall, she worked there from late 2003 until early 2005. She also worked the job as a second job, working just a couple nights a week. A funny girl, I definitely have missed her sardonic sense of humor over the last couple of years, when I don't think I've seen her at all.
"Can you believe I'm still working here?" I asked, and she said she couldn't. I told her that the two other veterans were also still there, and she couldn't believe it. We talked for a bit longer, exchanged numbers, and we were off.
This is a time of the year that seems to repeat itself every year. Over the holidays, I swear that I won't work at the restaurant much longer. I say that I'm simply working too much, that I'm tired all the time, that I really need a change. But then the holidays end. Life becomes less harried. I work just a few shifts at the restaurant, make plenty of money, and now the thought of quitting seems foreign. There's no answer to the "why quit?" question anymore. I mean, why quit a job that doesn't stress me out much, gives me some good money, and is flexible with me? I'm not sure how I could have survived this post-holiday and post-tuition time of January without this job. In fact, I'm barely making ends meet this month as it is.
Before I know it, baseball season will start. I'll be down to one shift a week, and it will barely register that I have two jobs. After that, the summer will be here. I'll be taking three classes and finishing the Master's degree. I can't teach summer school. Finding another job will be a huge hassle. And so it goes... I keep working here and working here with no end in sight. Am I alright with this? That's the question.
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