Today I went to the gas station for cigarettes, and the manager was the one working. He asked me how I’ve been doing, and I told him that I’m okay, but that I had lost my relatively-new teaching job. He asked me if I wanted to come back to work, and I told him “maybe.”
I really don’t want to do it, but damn it I need the money. That place had come to stress me out terribly; I dreaded going to work. I might do it, though, ask him if I can work Thursday and Friday nights. It would most likely be short-term, since I hope to move away from this area and closer to the old college soon.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; I could come back refreshed after a month and a half of being gone from there.