Posted August 31st, 2003 by Michelle

I got off the train, climbed into the Land Rover, turned on the satellite radio to find Dexy’s Midnight Runners’ “Come on Eileen” blasting on the 80’s station. I pulled out of the station, turned the first corner and the moon was rising just to my left- a low, long, lazy crescent moon. And I felt great. Two hours before, I sat my manager down at my restaurant, and said, “I’m giving you my two weeks.” “Where are you going?” he asked, confusion spreading over his face. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to write my book.”

Now that is not the only reason for quitting my job, but it was the first thing out my mouth, so I’m going to go with it. This is one of the scariest things I have ever done. My restaurant has been a part of my New York life since the moment I settled. It was there, on 9/12/2001 that I realized I could galvanize large groups of people to give their time and goods for service. It was there that they rearranged my schedule so I could train to be an EMT. I’ve met a handful of people on the staff that I hope to carry with me always. It was there that I learned that it was okay not be loved by everyone. It was that place that allowed me to become more of who I am.

But it is also the kind of place where people got a job at 21, thinking it would support an acting career, and yet TEN YEARS LATER they are still there, having giving up even saying they were an actor. It is a place where you have just enough fun and make just enough money to break even, while actually going nowhere. It is a place where I am wildly successful doing something I don’t want to be doing. It is a place that, post 9/11, the money does not come close to justifying the excessively hard work. And more so now than ever, it is fractured, divided, leaderless, and yet resistant to change. I could stay. I was only casually thinking about leaving. And then somehow ended up speaking the words that cut me loose from the only sure thing in my life.

Will I like this new job? Will the place even hit? Is there real money to be made? Will I hate the hours? In the end, it doesn’t matter. I will give it a shot, try my best, and if it doesn’t work, do something else. It is going to be a hard month both emotionally and financially, and were it not for a windfall earlier in the month I would already be out on the street. I can make this work, I will make this work. Dammit.

As for my book… it’s time. Weird to even write about writing a book but… but I’m going to create a new writing space in my apartment, and as soon as my schedule calms down, dedicate some time to spend in that place. I lose a double tomorrow, which is two shifts gone from next week’s paycheck. But… so many other things to do. My mind is spinning. I think I’ll go drown it in cable.