I crave human interaction. After only four days away from the office and two days of networking and job searching online, I need to hear a human voice. It's become so dire that I would even settle for a telemarketer. At dinner time.
I've worked steadily since I got my first babysitting gig at the tender age of 12 where my neighbour's kid decided to shock me by walking around the house naked with a sock hanging off of his dick. He thought I would be embarrassed but with an older brother nothing fazed me. I wonder if he would think it was so cool now, at 30, to be reminded how I whipped off the sock and told him it was nothing I hadn't seen before. Boy, I was brazen at 12!
I'm less brazen now, four days in from my escape from Cell Block C, knowing I'm set to cash my last pay cheque on Thursday, weeks before my pogey kicks in. I have never been without a pay cheque. I put myself through school on three days a week of work at the gym. After graduation, I held three part-time jobs and continued to work a part-time and a full-time job until a few years ago. In my head, I know I'll be okay. I have money saved and pogey coming. And, I know it's my time to buckle down and finally secure my dream job (or as close to my dream as possible today). I'm on the cusp of the unknown, of new possibilities, and it's all on my terms. I'm nervous of the unknown.
So, I take a deep breath and hanker down for long haul.