Yesterday after months of soul-crushingly monotonous unemployment, I started a new job, courtesy of a few choice phone calls by a good friend. It’s at a bookstore. A big one. Not quite like a Barnes and Noble, but similar. And it was simple. So simple. It was even what they call a busy day where a truck full of books comes in and we have to put them on the shelf. And it was still… just ridiculously easy and laid-back. If retail is slavery, this job is holding a palm leaf over your master’s head. And that’s your only job.

Sure, it’s only minimum wage, but that’s more than enough to put food in my belly for now compared to, uh, nothing. The ridiculous employee discount is just the sweetest (but not so sweet it makes you sick) icing on top. Or it would be if I read books ever. Basically after the second most stressful moments of my life, I’m set with a good job for the immediate future.

…. so why am I already looking for what’s next?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful to have a job at all, much less a fantastic one with an awesome boss. But there’s something missing. Maybe the severe lack of a challenge. Really, the biggest obstacle I’ll probably ever face there is some dude upset he bought Huckleberry Finn in Spanish and didn’t notice until a year later. Wowee zowee. Yet I’m seeing that as a bad thing, for whatever reason.

It makes me wonder if I’m ever going to find a place of contentment. Assuming I ever sell one of these stupid (read: incredible) stories I write, will I ever be happy with what I’ve done or am I always going to be looking ahead to the next one? Not just job-wise either, I’m talking the big picture here. When I was in high school, I couldn’t wait to leave my hometown and go to college. After a few years of college, I couldn’t wait to graduate and start my real life. After graduating, I couldn’t wait to find a real job. Now I have a real(-ish) job and I can’t wait to move on and find a better one. When I find a better job, am I just going to want another one? Maybe I’ll just be looking forward to marriage…. then what? Kids? Then those kids getting old enough to be on their own? I’ll be a friggin’ old man before I know it and be looking forward to…. being dead. Depressing, right? I don’t want to do that. But I’m at a loss for how to make it stop.

I guess that’s just what life is. Constantly moving from one thing to the next. Maybe it’ll never stop and I just have to re-learn how to stop every now and then and just enjoy where I am at that particular moment. I used to be so good at it (that’s what she said), but I think getting a healthy dose of the real world took it away (again). Somehow I went from self-deprecating for a laugh and genuinely started being pessimistic and I’m pretty sure it’s turned me into the whiniest whiner ever who’s destined to live a mediocre life, constantly complaining about imaginary lost potential until the day I die.

…. or maybe I’m just not destined to work at a bookstore very long.

I guess it’s time to start scheming again.

Scheme, scheme, scheme.

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