Today I had an unexpected second job interview with that bookstore I mentioned earlier. The interview went good, great even until the proprietor uttered words that literally shook me to the core: if it were up to me, you'd start next week.
After all those months of rejection, anguish and feeling like a failure, this was the most positive answer I'd ever gotten. And although I was really starting to get desperate and just wanted a job, any job, I wasn't happy; just extremely nauseous when he said that. I thought it was what I wanted but it turns out, I'm not ready. Or maybe I am but just not for this seeing as it isn't exactly what I originally had in mind. What scares me the most are the annoying side effects that are going to turn my beloved world (I know, I occasionally curse the ground I walk on) upside down.
Like I said, I'd be working in a bookstore which could actually be fun. Books and all. I'd finally be doing something productive, I'd be distracted from my other "issues", I'd be earning a living, no dull nine to five and I might even be able to use my education for something else than recreational purposes.
The terrifying downside: 120 minutes of public transport a day, working every Saturday, very long hours (9 am - 7.30pm) and the wages of a sales assistant which once again emphasizes that the past eight years have been for nothing. Zara, anyone?
True, I'd be working, I'd have experience and I could always keep on looking for greener pastures but something about this entire scenario just scares the shit out of me while I actually should be happy seeing as I'd finally have a job. But why aren't I?
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