The September long, long, loooooooong weekend finally past and I'm done.
This year - every year, longer than the last, longer like no other.
Monday night, a wrap, meet up with the owner's son in town for a beer. It's back to work Thursday, by myself, open to close, but the major rushes, insane business, they're done, it should be manageable.
SHOULD BE.
I've a try-out tonight at another job, a bistro/winebar in town, better food. Shorter hours - a lot shorter. 6, sometimes 7 hours per day, vs, the 10, 11, 12 I'm doing now. And a ten minute walk from home, not a 30 minute drive in a jeep that no longer runs.
I need this. I need some balance in my life, and as much as I'm loathe to work on a day off this may be my ticket out of there.
They won't take it well, nevermind, I'm too sensitive to this - there were weeks I worked more than he and his wife did together, and I'm done. Never again. Done working with the wife who somehow thought the ice well, water jugs all magically refilled themselves, that the fruit would cut itself if you left it long enough, that there were fairies that popped out of the walls to bus the tables for her. Too many times I've busted my ass to stop and catch my breath and discover that in fact I had only 3 tables and all my running was caused by her...
And the son, well, he'd have to show up for me to comment, and- for a good bulk of the summer he managed not to.
"Congratulations" he says to me..."We made it...".
No. I made it, the donkey with the carrot on the stick in front of him, he - the person riding the donkey. "We" didn't make it.
Anyways, tryout tonight, hopefully new doors opening to smaller, more manageable rooms, and there's always that sadness when you leave something behind but - it's time.
It's time.