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Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Cold City

Its amazing how things can change so quickly.  Even more interesting is how I've noticed a shift in my perceptions of other, seemingly unrelated things since this most recent change began.

One of my bosses, who is a good friend of mine from college, and I sat down for coffee a week before I was to leave for Florida.  It was also my second payday since working for him.  I hadn't seen him around the studio much  that week and I knew he'd had some personal things going on.  Almost as soon as we sat down, he informed me that it was quite likely that he and his business partner would be closing the business and, in any case, they were not able to pay me my contracted amount anymore.  I was really glad that I'd been on my way to The Writer's place when I stopped for coffee, because I burst into tears the minute I was through his door, which I'm sure the TV repair guys who were there at the time really appreciated.

My work situation was a pretty unique one.  I was hired to do public relations and marketing for this friend's dance studio, however, their business was unable to pay me enough to make it my full-time job, so I was also hired by the adjoining fitness center to man the common front desk.  It was a pretty advantageous set-up, had it worked, since I was essentially being paid twice to sit there once and I was off by noon almost everyday.  I had left my somewhat unstable position in retail and turned down another decent offer to take this job.  So, when I found out that it was going to be ending, I felt like I had been thrown back to square one.  It had barely been a month since I'd started and I'd hated the feeling of insecurity that I'd had when I was job hunting the last time.  I'm sure that many people in America are familiar with this feeling, given the current economy.

When things were going well at my dual jobs, I didn't mind working in the downtown area.  I could deal with the toothless, jobless, and mostly uneducated individuals who spoke their demands to me in half-sentences.  I liked the view of the old buildings and being able to walk to my hair stylist's after work.  Even though this city's crime and poverty rates are depressingly high, the city felt almost romantic to me. I've always loved the feel of old cities and hope that life frequently finds me in their hustle and bustle.

This city is different for me now.  I loathe the cold sky that blankets it.  The buildings are stark and crumbling and there's no money anywhere to restore them.  Restoration is no where in sight for the people either. So, who was I, to think that my own restoration and profitability lay in one of these buildings or that these people who paid for their gym memberships with government checks would lead to a business that would support my own income?  Perhaps I was foolish, perhaps this is just another bump in the post-winter, potholed road I've been on.

A potential opportunity may have presented itself yesterday, and for this, I am hopeful.  It, like my last employment venture, could be profitable.  It's closer to what I want to be doing, but I don't want to get my hopes up.  Best case scenario: it detracts from the failure of the last month and a half's work and leads to something huge in another city.

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