turquoise

I experienced a strange day today.  Still getting used to my commute two days a week to a new suburb, I've been playing around with all the different public transport routes.  And sometimes they are disastrous.  Or maybe not.  Depends how you look at it, n'est-ce pas?

I SWEAR I read the train schedule last night and saw there was a 9:48 train.  So the Mr. drives me a few miles across town to the stop and I stand at the platform and wait.  And wait.  And wait.

An elderly grandmother walks up to me, as I was the only person standing at the platform, and asks me if I've seen her granddaughter get off the last train.  It was a scorcher, and I was sitting in the shaded hut sweating like a pig while trying to fan myself.  I told her there were quite a few folks who got off the last train and wasn't too sure if her granddaughter was one of them.  She saw me sweating and asked me if I wanted to sit with her in her air-conditioned car to wait for the train.  I assured her I'd be fine (not wanting to go into the details with a complete stranger how my medication makes me sweat profusely) and she wandered off to look for her.  A few minutes later a young girl new to the city asked me if she was standing on the right platform for the outbound.  I told her yes, and that it seemed like the train was late.  She then informs me that there is not another train for over an hour.  WHA!?!?  I immediately panicked.  Of course, I check the schedule again on my phone and I had erroneously (or subconsciously?) added an extra 9:48 train in my head.  The Mr. turned back around and drove alllll the way back to pick me up and drive me to work so I wouldn't be late.  I walked with the new girl and asked her if she was going to wait for an hour at the platform.  She was unfamiliar with the area and I pointed out a nice cool coffee shop for her to wait.  She thanked me, I thanked her, and we were on our way.

As I walked down to the street again, the grandmother was still walking around with her cane looking for her granddaughter fifteen minutes later.  Some weird strange force compelled me to look a block away, across the street and pointed, "Is that her sitting over there by the diner?"  The grandmother's panic turned to surprise and I walked a few difficult steps with her to the corner and she exclaimed, 'That's her!  You found her!' and continued to thank me profusely for being there to help her.

So somehow it was a little slab of destiny or whathaveyou that guided me there to that platform at that particular time.  I ended up getting to work with fifteen minutes to spare, just enough time to slam down an iced mocha, but broke two fingernails within minutes of being there.  Weird.  And it was busy busy buzzing all day so the day fleeeew by...

But the commute home was a two-hour one.  I came home to stare at the canvas I painted turquoise yesterday.  I was trying to watch a documentary about autism that I picked up at the library but for some reason I kept looking over at that turquoise I painted yesterday.  What is it about that color that grabs me?  I'm sure any qualified color theorist would have a quick answer.  But I stared at it for so long that I am having trouble picking up another color to complete the third part of a five-piece set I have been working on.  I dunno.  I guess the right time will appear again and I will just know when to continue on...

beginning again...

And so the changes continue as I step into my new roles.  "Retail is retail," is what a coworker stated last week, and while this is true, it still takes some getting used to whenever you take on a new line of sales.  Going from books and multimedia to fashion is a HUGE change.  Conversations are different, opinion matters, sharing somewhat superficial thoughts about accesorizing a dress is a completely different realm than books.  But it's not bad.  It's easier.  Not that 'easy' is something I was striving for...in fact, one full week in and I'm worried if I will be able to stick with the new gig long-term.  But one thing is for CERTAIN: I am SO happy I am not sitting at home collecting unemployment.  That would have driven me CRAZY and my stress levels would be over the sun, moon and stars and even BEYOND.

My last day at the bookstore was bittersweet.  I will most certainly miss it.  I was given a chocolate cake with french script.  It read:

Quel dommage!
Le depart de Nikki
Nous vous manquerons
Bon au revoir notre amie
a bientot

It was a sweet tribute.  And we went for a few drinks after work for a lovely sendoff.  Such good good memories I will have.

And so this week has felt somewhat adventurous.  I've been exploring new public transport routes and learning a new suburb's ins and outs.  And i actually love the fact that I will be splitting my time between two stores.  It's a nice variety.  So we shall see  My new schedule is strange and it doesn't do much for my social life NOR my marriage.  But again, I am relieved to have a job and not be sitting around chewing my fingernails looking for work.

I borrowed The Life and Times of Frida Kahlo again from the library.  And I was feeling motivated, if not only for a second, to try and make art from this thing that I call my life.  Especially as I move forward with this change. 

On verra, mes amis.  On verra.

once in a lifetime...

I feel like I am living in a movie.  The ending is near, but it's been a rather anticlimactic plot.  Like one of those odd sort of foreign films that don't really go anywhere but the viewer is still somehow entertained and mesmerized.  On Saturday,

FIN

and the credits will roll.

I have enjoyed my eight years in a bookstore, and with my departure I take along great stories and characters and memories.  New adventures await, 'tis true, but nothing could ever replace the ambiance of a building stocked high with MUSIC and MOVIES and BOOKS and COFFEE and GIFTS.  I wonder which customers really will come see me at the new gig, and which customers will I never see again?  I am savoring every moment of this last week...every ride on the train...every research request to determine what the customer is thinking of...every exchange...everything.  Oh, I could write a book, and yes, you may reply, why don't you?

I'll figure it out someday, someway.

Workin' workin' workin'

Whew!  Just finished a nine day work stretch.  How the hell did I work three jobs AND take classes in the 90s?  I dunno.  Funny how age just suddenly creeps up on us like it does.

As of today, I have eight more shifts at the bookstore.  I have nearly been in tears saying goodbye to people.  And I am sure as the last days continue some real tears will indeed be shed.  I have been so comfortable in my position, like it was something that suited me so well.  I am sad.  It's a very bittersweet farewell.

I have been starting up the new gig and learning all the ropes.  I am hanging my head in sadness as vacation becomes some elusive thing.  And a pay cut.  And expensive health insurance.  I have already reworked my new budget and it's sad.  Thank God for free events.  (Sharon Van Etten was awesome Monday night!)

I am hoping a creative surge hits again.  Working like this sucks the life out of me....