lauraflute

My bestest buddy at work, Samantha, is moving. Her last official shift is Saturday night. She threatened to leave a million times this year but this time she really means it. She and her husband bought a house in North Cackilack. I'm not ready to write a sappy farewell post yet. Rest assured there will be one.

I thought hard tonight about why I sort of settled for Applebee's all this time. Sure, I could argue with Joe not working a job move is risky (it is, but that's another post entirely), I'm just crazy/depressed (I've already posted about that enough :P), or a million and one other reasons why a two month gig has stretched out to 11. And tonight it dawned on me -- Sam made it comfortable. I was willing to put up with the shit so long as she was there. Not that I'm making her a scapegoat or anything, she just made it easier to bear. My trusty security blanket. Like Linus without his blanket, without her I will go carnival freak crazy. She has this way of hating the place on the same wavelength I do, which soothes me. I can't really explain it. I've confounded you all. Moving on.

That's really the whole point of this. Throughout my life I knew when I would move on because it was spelled out. I moved on from high school and college when I graduated. I moved out because Joe and I were ready to move in together. Knowing the moving on point with jobs, however, has been very confusing for me. Do I ride it out in hopes of things improving, or do I cut and run? In retrospect I always feel I waited too long or acted too soon. So I'm going to take this big flashing neon sign for what it is and get the hell out.

So thank you, Sam. Thank you for being my security blanket and neon sign all in one. I hate that you're moving so far, that we can't gossip across the bar anymore, that the socks I'm making aren't just a Christmas present but a moving present, but ultimately we'll survive it and life without Applebee's is definitely an improvement.

Damn it, I got prematurely mushy. Time for bed.