Tuesday, 23 December 2008 - 7:16 pm

Looking Forward

Today was both better and worse than I expected.  Christmas and new tattoos don’t mix well, but with a few painkillers and a painted-on smile, you can face just about anything.

I realised halfway through the day that I still hadn’t picked up Dad’s present.  I picked it out weeks ago, but I had to wait for a paycheque to come in, and then… well, my world exploded and it slipped my mind.  And now it’s Christmas in two days and I still don’t have it.  The hardware store was closed by the time I got there after work; I’ll have to try tomorrow at lunchtime.


When I got home, Dad was waiting for me with his concerned face on.  It creeps out every now and then, usually when he’s had a slow day at work and too much time to think.  Not too many people buying cars right now, it seems.  They’re tending to go for cheaper presents this year.

It came over dinner: the Talk about My Future.  What I’m going to do, I can’t stay at a bookstore my whole life, come on Faithy, you have to do something better with yourself.  You could be more than this.

I’ve heard it all before; he does this once every few months.  So I’ve been at the bookstore for almost a year now.  So this job is yet another in a string of crappy retail positions.  So I’m smart enough to do something better.

I surprised him by having an answer for him.  I surprised him by telling him that I’m angling for the supervisor position that’s about to open up there.  That I want to get management experience before I look at opening my own store. 

My own little bookstore – one of those poky, kooky places that smells of old paper and newly-minted books – not one of the chain monstrosities.  All mine – my own hours, my own work, my own weekendless weeks, my own crappy pay, my own name over the door.  I love books , I love working with books, and I love people who love books.  That’s what I want to do with myself.

That shut him up for a while.  Finally, he asked if I was sure that I wanted a bookstore.  He might be a bit upset that I don’t want to go into the car business.  That’s what I took these retail jobs to get away from, so I could find my own thing.  Now I’ve found it and I’m not going to let him guilt me into helping him at the yard again.  Been there, done that.  It’s time for me now.

A girl can dream, right?