2AM Traffic

I've had a lot on my mind lately, and I've been meaning to write one of these journal thingies, but I suppose I wasn't done thinking. I'm still not. So it goes.

The new year has gotten off to a bit of a slow start. I'm running low on money, so I've been watching my spending for the last couple of weeks while trying to scrape together a living at Haven books, a student-owned and run bookstore that caters to Carleton University syllibi. I've been walking to and from work, 40 minutes each way, and it's been good exercise. At first I felt tired and really ached from walking so much and standing for such long periods of time, but I'm more used to it now since I started the routine. I have two more shifts to work next week. At the very least it's been a friendly reminder of why I never, ever want to return to the customer service industry again. I've done my time.

One of the neat things about the job, however, is the fact that I can spend my half hour break at the Second Cup at Bank and Sunnyside. I used to go for breaks at that same coffee shop when I worked as a technical writer for the 3-Way Street Corporation. When I can, I sit in the window, reading and sipping a caramel corretto, sensing the tiniest hint of nostalgia for the early part of 2006, when I was writing my undergraduate honours thesis while working two jobs to make ends meet. I've been reading Charles R. Cross' biography of Kurt Cobain, Heavier than Heaven, and it's hard to describe the impact it's having on me. It will have to wait for a later update.

Tomorrow morning I'm testing for a full-time position at the House, knowing full well it's a position I probably won't get. I'm only taking the test because several people on the floor coerced me into it. I feel like it's going to make some kind of statement of which I'm not even aware, but one that should be made. By me. Maybe?

More to come. Much more.