12/28/12

It's 9:36 and the snow's falling outside.

They're saying we'll get 2-4 inches.

I'm sitting in our chair in the living room.

Chatting with Rob on Facebook and listening to Blake in his room.

This past week has gone by in a blur. I worked Wednesday through today, but all the shifts were pretty easy, and some quite short, because downtown's been dead. It empties out between Christmas and New Year's as the Suits go on vacation. The suburbs are probably crazy right now. This upcoming Thursday we're having a mandatory store meeting with complimentary beers at Rock Bottom afterwards; hopefully we'll be hearing who the new manager is going to be. There have been rumors, but there are always rumors, and so far as I know, the actual decision hasn't been made (though offers have been thrown out). The meeting will, I hope, shed light on this and some changes being implemented across the board in T.M. land.

All of that to say: maybe it's time I start looking for another job.

I don't need a career. Just something that helps pay bills a little more.

It'd be nice to actually make enough to have some sort of savings.

Therein lies a huge motivator for Grad School.

Mo has been in Michigan all week, won't be back until next Sunday. I've missed having her around, and I'm throwing together our "Day Date" for this upcoming Monday. I'm taking off work, and I'm going to treat her to a homemade breakfast, take her out to a nice restaurant, and lavish some gifts upon her adorable little head. I'm glad we've gotten back into the swing of things. That two-week break kinda brought me to my senses about a lot of things.

I've chugged NyQuil, so who knows how long it'll be 'til it kicks in.

Don't worry, I'm not addicted. 

I just don't want to be wide awake with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Isaac's gone, and Blake's doing his own thing.

Sitting beside me on our little sofa table are two books: The Ideological Origins of the American Revolution and The Radicalism of the Revolution. I need to read both and write an essay on them for the final part of my Grad School application. Everything needs to be in by February 4 next year; January 1 marks the beginning not only of a new year (duh) but also of my required reading. In the meantime I hope to finish a good portion of Alan Taylor's American Colonies. It's a phenomenal book, and for Christmas I got another book by him on the War of 1812. Definitely looking forward to it.

I was reading 1491 in the cafe and Bob saw me.

He asked what I was reading, and I told him.

"Oh, it's historical fiction?" he said.

I told him it wasn't fiction.

"Oh, I only like historical fiction," he said. "I need a good story."

Well, that's what history is: story. It's an undying, unfolding story. 

I think that's what I really like about it.

All the stories, amazing stories, that most people don't know about.

It's like reading Tolkien, or Lewis, except it's real, and it happened.

What's not awesome about that?

Blake just found me.

"Where have you been?"

"I've just been in the living room."

"Oh, I thought you were gone this whole time."

That's me. Sneaky like a church mouse.

Now the NyQuil's kicking in.

So good night.