Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
I have mixed feelings about that, and they are further complicated by the “relationship,” if that is even the word, that is developing between us. Sure, it was shitty living paycheck to paycheck and getting mistreated waitressing, but I had a band of fellow sad sacks around me to commiserate with and even hang out with after work. They were friends. Now I have a basketful of fancy Bavarian food, a posh apartment, but my entire life seems to be revolving around one person, and I don’t even know his real name.
On the other hand, just another nine months of brisk business with WildCaptain will put me in a position to seriously put my business plan in action and give my mom the help she deserves. Instead of browsing the real estate listings for research and daydreams, I’ll have enough money to apply for a small business loan and actually lease a space. It’s possible that in just a year, I could be a business owner, a real business owner, and leave my other business behind. After all, that’s the plan. Am I losing sight of it?
I’m getting a feeling like the floor is falling out from underneath me and the room starts spinning. I hold onto the counter for support and take a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down and not have a full-blown panic attack in front of Velma. As my head clears, I make a decision: I need to figure out what I’m doing with my life and try to untangle my feeling for WildCaptain from my complete financial dependence on him. I’ve gotten myself into a tricky situation.
“Weaver. Weaver? $68.59, liebling.” Velma’s voice breaks through and I manage to snap myself out of my spiral.
“Sorry Velma,” I say sheepishly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “I guess I’m pretty tired. Maybe I’ll go home and go back to sleep.”
“You should do that,” Velma says as she hands me my change. “It sounds like your meeting was tough. Those pricks from Dubai didn’t know their dechadoodies from their hairframes. Heh. And I bet they think they’re so smart.”
I can’t help but smile at that. Velma is getting quite a tech education from me. Hopefully she’ll never try to impress anyone with her newly acquired knowledge.
“You’re so right, Velma,” I say, walking out the door. “Bye for now.”
The Manhattan street is quiet with just a few cabs zooming by me on my walk home. The wash of panic I’d felt in the deli has dissipated, and with a clearer head I know I will figure it all out. I decide to stop by my mom’s later in the day and bring her some groceries. I’ll bring her the fancy cambozola cheese; it’ll taste better if we share it. But first things first, my visit with Kate. We are going to make the most of this weekend and nothing is going to get in the way of that. I put my problems on the backburner. Temporarily.
3
Weaver
No matter how hard I try, I am not, nor will I ever be, a napper. Falling asleep at five in the morning is never going to happen. So I start my day.
My work with WildCaptain leaves me lots of free time, but I’ve never been someone who’s content to be idle. Most television doesn’t interest me, and there’s only so much scrolling you can do through Facebook before you lose your mind. I also have mixed feeling about seeing my old college friends’ social media posts. Do I really need to know that douchbag Brandon is working in St. Croix or Trust fund Tiffany is already assistant manager at the Four Seasons in Chicago? The more I observe my classmates’ successes, the more I question the path I’ve taken. And that feels lousy.
After I put away my groceries, I get to work cleaning my apartment. I may be squandering my hard-earned dough on fancy gourmet foods, but I’m not about to throw money away on a cleaning service. Anyway, I really enjoy cleaning, and it’s a time when I do my best thinking. I have a small den off of my kitchen that I’m pretty sure was originally a maid’s room. It’s big enough to fit a twin bed and a dresser, but that’s it. I want to make it perfect for Kate’s visit. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the elements I’ll include in my youth hostel, and this is an opportunity to put some of those ideas to the test. I think about all the things that go into creating a warm and inviting space. The scents, the lighting, the soft touches, the amenities. I tumble clean linens for the bed in my dryer with lavender sachets and make the bed with the fresh and fragrant sheets. I plump the pillows and straighten the duvet so it will look welcoming to Kate when she arrives. I imagine she’ll be tired and hungry, so I place a small basket of treats by her bedside: a packet of almonds, a shiny green apple, and of course, a small bag of German beef jerky I picked up on one of my late-night trips. I rinse out a small carafe and place it by her bedside with a clean glass. Nobody wants to have to wander around in a strange place in the middle of the night for a glass of water. I make a mental note to pick up flowers later in the day.