Posted August 21st, 2003 by Michelle

I’ve been offered a new job. There is so much baggage in that simple statement that I hardly know where to begin. I’ve set down two rules: that I work with a certain manager, and that I get to choose my schedule. I’m reasonably sure that both demands will be honored, and if they are, I’ve pretty much said I’d do it.

I would be working in a bar in the East Village that is set to open in three weeks. I would work, most likely, Wednesday and Friday night, and possibly one other day shift. During that time I would make at least half again as much as I am making right now on six shifts at my restaurant. However, the hours are ugly: 8 PM to 4 AM, both nights, never getting done earlier than 4. The day shift would be 11 AM to 8 PM. I would have to write off half of the next day after working till 4, not getting home till 5. But it would mean Saturdays and Sundays off, and at least four days off a week. It would also allow me to pay for a wine course, or an acting class, or my credit card debt… I mean, it could be a whole new financial world.

However, I would have to leave my job, my job where I slave to make a few bones a week, but where I have good friends and easy success, and the clout of one of the best restaurants in New York. Now, I’ll say where I work, and people won’t recognize it, won’t recognize the skill I have to have to work there.

So really, we’re talking about pride here. Pride in a job that is not at all what I want to do. But I am proud of my restaurant, proud of how well suited I am to work there, proud of the work I do and proud that the staff and customers love me. At the same time, I would find pride in scrubbing toilets or working the guacamole gun at Taco Bell. I guess I can take my pride wherever I go, but it just won’t be the same. Not at all.

I probably won’t find out if my two weighty requests, for management and schedule, have been granted until early next week, so I have the weekend to sit on it. In the end it’s change, and change is good, if it means more cash in the bank and more time to write, sing, EMT, act, and play. On the other hand, I cut my hair off and am considering a new restaurant job, something that even a few months ago I would have never done. I’d hate to make these huge choices and then regret them, chalking them to simply looking for diversions. Well. What’s a girl to do.