Ten days before my last post, I started working as a server assistant at a little place in Lakeview that’ll henceforth be referred to as the Vegan Place,* which was a god-send for two reasons: 1) because it ended a five-week stretch of unemployment–my second this year, I’m not at all proud to admit–and, 2) I’m finally surrounded by great people. At least, people I feel comfortable with. My previous employers, most of whom are retailers, seemed to collect people I just don’t understand. The fashion-magazine/ romance-novel-readers and reality-TV-watchers who, though not stupid, are willing to let others spoon-feed them life without questioning where it came from. I never succeeded in those environments because I couldn’t stop questioning. Why a spoon? Why not a fork, or a spork, or a tiny snack bowl? And why do I have to wait for you to feed me? Why can’t I do it myself?
Anyway. The Vegan Place lets me feed myself–literally and figuratively–and I appreciate that. At this point, it’s the best job I’ve ever had.
If you follow my Twitter feed, then you’ll know that I just recently finished The Island of Knowledge, a beautiful work of science philosophy by Marcelo Gleiser, a theoretical physicist, professor, and author of other works of nonfiction that are now on my ever-growing list of need-to-reads. His exploration of where science was and how and why it became what it is now got me excited to read in a way I didn’t realize I’d been missing. I haven’t been that emotionally attached to a book since Seven Year Old Me first cracked open a hardcover copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. On the surface it might seem sacrilege to compare the two, but once you’ve read both it actually makes its own kind of sense. Both books kicked my imagination into gear and opened my eyes to what I want. I want to be a writer and a scientist. Not a crime writer, on the outside looking in; I want to be an investigator, on the inside looking out with the window flung open wide so I can run to the ledge and announce to anyone passing by how much more fascinating and complicated the world is; how romance novels and reality shows pale in comparison to the stories microscopes can tell.
On top of all this, my Fellowship broke: One friend moved to New Orleans, another to Michigan, and another returned from Europe and then left again with promises to be back soon. If I didn’t have Travis to be the Samwise to my Frodo, the Ring might’ve gotten really damn heavy.
So, yeah. Twenty-six days…has the dust settled yet?
*I’m still not sure how specific I want to get about my daily life here on the site. It’s connected to my other social media accounts, so it isn’t my anonymity I’m considering so much as respect for my employer and coworkers.