Have you ever walked off a job on the spot? What drove you to it? Did you regret it afterwards?
I sometimes point to 1994 as the year I came of age. A lot happened in those 12 months that turned me from a very clueless kid into someone who at least had the potential to become a man. My grandmother died in January. Shortly afterward, I got my own ride. I had my first broken relationship in the form of Megan Adams. I went to Space Academy. I got my second-ever "real" job. I quit that job two weeks in and started working for a newspaper. I wrecked my ride -- breaking my brother's arm and his trust in me in the process. I think I may have even had my first real conversations with Jessie that fall. There was a lot on my plate.
In June, I left for what was supposed to be a four-week stint as a lifeguard at a Boy Scout camp about an hour or so away from home. I didn't know it at the time, but I was pretty much clueless about how life, the world, people or relationships worked. I wasn't even an afternoon's drive from my momma, but when I showed up at camp -- a place I'd spent quite a bit of time at as a kid -- I was home sick. If I could have quit that very first day, I would have. In fact, I think I may have tried. I remember something about telling the boss that I didn't feel good and that I might need to head home. Luckily he was wise in the ways of sad little teenagers and didn't believe any of my bullshit.
( ...I ain't working here no more.Collapse )