There was a month or two period there before quitting my job as a barista where I genuinely didn’t like what I did. I was frustrated with the people I interacted with daily, the management was in a strange and unsettled place, and Abbie and I both were looking, actively, had been looking, actively, for something to help us pay the bills come our marriage; neither of us had been successful in that yet. When I put in my notice and was prepared to leave for good, it was a freeing feeling. Knowing that I would be moving on to something better, knowing that the dead end I’d felt as though I was running into would soon be behind me and something better for me, better for Abbie, better for our marriage would be waiting ahead, made me feel as though I was finally getting my head around this whole “adult” thing.
But it didn’t last. (more…)