Sunday, August 24, 2008

My heart in my throat

I'm still wrapping my head around it. I got the shop tech job, as soon as I pass the crim checks and drug tests. It happened so fast, and I've been working so much, it took a few days to sink in.

My life is good here. I loved Philadelphia, the city, but I was always short on time resources, on cash, on education and experience. And here, for whatever else happens, there's time, books, a wealth of experience to draw from, and stability. I never wanted to be a rock star, this is all I need.

I'm in the middle of a stretch of overtime, and I got pretty sick on top of it. There's no one left on the workshop staff to cover for sickness, so I'm working through it in the heat; my voice is stretched for every demo, and when I leave work, I can barely talk above a whisper. I think we're all tired, but doing alright. I'm too nervous and sick to be estatic, but the feeling is somewhere in that vicinty.

Holy shit.

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