kloiterra

yeah so maybe i don't want to be a teacher anymore.
it was an epiphany; a realization that floated up and surfaced from the murky depths of the sea of booze, shame and defeat in my stomach. i didn't trust it at first--i sat on the thought for a couple of days before i presented it to the high council and then was a bit surprised when they were pleased. it was like they'd been holding their breath for the last two years; like they knew something i didn't but were under contractual obligation to allow me to find this particular key on my own. they breathed deeply.
the new plan: just grab an English degree and then bust a move on the workforce. i love to read, write, cook, travel, compose music and be happy...let's throw a degree into the mix and see what happens...
speaking of workforce, the new scene is yeasty--i'm officially a baker. i guess i've always been a baker in a way, and most likely will always be, but now i'm a baker of breads. Chef and Virgil were brought in to retool a local restaurant and they're doing something that is unheard of in this town: everything from scratch, no glorified fast food, no junk. the townsfolk aren't used to this kind of food, so it's a slow start, just easing in. i'll train someone else to bake bread and become a line cook in a few months when they begin offering dinner service to the general public; back in the saddle. the restaurant at the Best Western will soon be where foodies, people with class and noses for quality go to eat, the place where high school boys take their prom dates, and the only restaurant in town with tablecloths, an intimidating notion to those who tend to go to restaurants to get the kind of food they could make at home.
and then came the girl.
when the wave of future formers ebbed, there was an unexpected shiny thing left on the beach. about the time i'd decided that the young one was a ridiculous venture that would end in pain, the cougarish EMT made another appearance. she gave me a ride home from the bar, got a goodnight kiss and then started blowing up my phone. red flags immediately went up and i hesitated--i still haven't mastered the art of telling someone they've already tasted their last kiss from me. what kept me from going ahead and riding the wave of meaningless pleasure is the appearance of Lupe. she is the roommate of a former lab partner, so i'd met her long before, but never interacted with her much. then at the bar one night on a whim, we'd partaken in shameless(and not altogether serious) flirting. she left feeling weird about the situational implications of offering her phone number, and i felt weird about not taking it. a few days later, we talked again and about our individual weirdnesses and she started coming over and hanging out, as we had a mutual interest that her roommate does not approve of. after we returned to town from our familial Giftmas obligations, we made it official without words. it's a mutual dig and it's pretty cool. we have a blast together and she's made everyone else mere afterthoughts, but i'm not used to having someone come and take all my free time away. she's a high school teacher, so in a few days, i'll get some of it back, but in the meantime, i'm just enjoying it as much as i can while time and change brings this emasculating money situation to an end, just another afterthought, the final symbol of all the wrong choices made last year.