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.
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