written on an Amtrak train, somewhere west of Lancaster, PA
I’m sitting here, working my way through the New York Times – it took two hours, not bad – when my cell rings. Unknown number. That usually means it’s the temp agency I work for.
And I’m right. They have a job for me, finally. It’s at a company that I’ve worked at before; the place pays well, the environment is relaxed, and I know several people that work there. And they want me until I leave at the end of July, meaning I would financial security for months.
It starts tomorrow.
They had to give it to someone else. That sucks. But what can you do? Plan your life around hypothetical phone calls?
Besides, not to be overly sentimental, but spending a couple of days with my parents far exceeds any amount of money I could earn at a temp job.