38 Days, But Whose Counting? April 22, 2008

Graduation has crept up on me.  I only have four Mondays left to go at this place, and then I’m free, paper in hand, to go out and make good use of the skills they’ve ground, beaten, stamped into me.  I have every confidence that I’m going to have a long, happy, lucrative career, but this Graduation Thing, it just…snuck up when I wasn’t looking closely.  All the studying and the planning and the practice have led to this moment, and perhaps I’m just struggling with how to handle success after years of figuring out how to handle failure.  One is just as scary as the other, I’m quickly realizing.  

Of course, hand in hand with the fear of What I’m Going To Do Next, With Who, And Where, is an overwhelming sense of elation at the accomplishment of managing to survive it all, let alone painting 28 shows in the process, and learning lots of fantastically unique and interesting skills along the way.  I am happy that I made the decision to attend a conservatory, but I’ll be damned if I know how people do it straight out of high school.  The schedule has been so demanding for so long, now that I have some ‘free time’ (since my last college show is up and running!), I don’t actually know what to do with myself.  My homework is getting done and there are hours left in the day to use however I may choose.  Lately, that has meant naps and movies, mostly, and lemme tell ya, nothing could be sweeter.  

Someone asked me today how I was doing and I replied, without thinking, “I’ve never been better”.  All evening, since that encounter, I’ve marveled at the thought that I’ve never used that phrase before, because I’ve never been this happy with the shape my life has taken.  I still have Plenty of Issues, for sure, but I think I must be learning how to cope with them in healthy, mature ways.  Or something.

Or maybe I’ve gone and grown up.  I’m too old to feel like a kid and too young to be comfortable with the phrase Middle Aged.  I still don’t have the hang of this responsibility thing.  Maybe I should go to grad school, and postpone the inevitable three more years.  

In other news, I love my new job.  It’s frickin awesome…exactly the cooking job I’ve always wanted, the people are tres cool, the food is fresh and delicious and organic and unprocessed, just high brow enough to satisfy a gourmet palate but simple enough to delight the timid eater, the schedule is perfect, and there is a true sense of community involved with being a member of the staff.   Conversation overheard, between a waitress and a busboy:

Busboy: Why don’t any normal looking people eat here?

Waitress:  Cuz no normal looking people work here.  

I feel right at home.  And I feel like a baller.  Landing this job was the equivalent to scoring a spot on the line at Tupelo Honey in Asheville; this restaurant is a local treasure, and I feel so thankful that I’m a part of that now.  The steady paychecks don’t hurt, either.  

I hate to say it but I almost feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I’m so happy, things are going so well…the pessimist in me says it won’t hold.  Just so long as it holds for another 38 days, I can handle the rest.