Another One Down.

Today I found out that my friend from cafe is leaving.

fucking eh-. Everyone is leaving. And yet I still remain.

I opened today and saw a message on the white board announcing that there is an opening for a cafe lead. An opening in any department means that someone is leaving, and realizing that there are only two cafe leads, one of whom is my friend, I quickly put two and two together.

The news of his leaving was then announced during our dumb morning meetings where we all stand around at customer service while one of the managers goes on an on about...something. I am crushed. This is the fourth person living the bookstore in less than two months.

Which means that new people will be hired, making me one of the older employees. I hate this. I love that He is moving on from the bookstore. I don't know if he got a new job or is moving back in with his parents, but regardless he won't be there. And if anyone deserves to get out of that place it's him.

But, I can't help but feel jealous. I can't help but feel sad because He is leaving but also because I am still there. Of course, after the meeting when we all dispersed someone [Dave] stopped me on my way to the children's department to discuss the news. And he went on to say that he was happy that my friend was getting out of the bookstore because some people become 'lifers'

It's a term thrown around loosely at work to of course describe people who will be there FOREVER. Dave said he was going to be a lifer, no doubt about it. But as soon as he said it he was all 'no, I'm just kidding I might go back to school. I haven't been in school for ten years'. But I knew that he was serious, that store is going to be his job until it closes or he finds another retail job.

It seems every time someone else leaves the store, I envision with hope my own departure. The day where I get to announce that I received an unbelievable and exciting offer at some production company and that I regretfully (not) have to put in my two weeks notice. And then at the meeting, my manager will tell my co-workers of my impending leave and everyone will be sad. Yeah.

But until then, every time someone else leaves the store, I am faced with the irrational fear that I will be a lifer. I graduated going on two summers ago (writing two years is painful). And though I know I am an amazing, brilliant, charismatic young women I can't help but call on my real life to begin already, for something to come my way.

Because I'm don't want to be a lifer. I won't.