Page 182 of Mountain Daddy
The emails I’ve sent back and forth with HR to schedule today have been friendly and welcoming.
And… I hate it.
I hate everything about it.
I hate being back in a city.
I hate the way these shoes feel on my feet.
I hate the way this dress screamscorporate lackey.
I hate the idea of not seeing my dad all the time.
Hate the thought of telling him I’m leaving.
I stop in front of the elevator bank and press the Up button.
The shiny metal doors slide open, and I step inside.
As the cab rises, I stare at my distorted reflection. “What are you doing?”
I told myself it wouldn’t hurt to interview. That I can always say no to an offer.
And on principle, I stand by that. It’s always best to have your options open.
But being here, standing here, feeling like I’m back in my old life. Like I’m back out east, ready to spend the day dancing to my boss’s tune… It’s not me anymore.
I don’t know if I’ve changed that much or if I’ve just experienced a different way to live.
A more relaxed life.
And I like it.
I more than like it.
I’m good at working from home.
I’m productive.
In the time I’ve been here, I’ve accomplished a lot for Joe’s Custom Furniture.
And I feel good about that.
I have more passion for my dad’s website than I had for all my previous jobs combined.
And I can do my current job anywhere.
I can still move out, so I don’t have to be there when his friends come over.
But I don’t need to move all the way to Denver.
And, with time, I’ll get over Luther.
I’ll be okay seeing him.
Eventually.
The elevator doors slide open, and I step out.
