Feeling: to quote Del: "I am twisted... bound up... divided..."
Listening to: Poe - "Terrible Thought"
Reading/Watching: Time of the Twins - Weis and Hickman

It's not really two entries in one day, if they're separated by eight hours of sleep.

For the uninformed, I have big plans this summer. Scary plans. And even bigger plans for next summer. The only problem is, all my plans seem to be converging on each other like a battlescene from Braveheart, with the Irish conscripts in the middle to make it interesting.

Let's start with the oldest plans first. Since I was about sixteen, I've been trying to save my money for a trip to Europe, since I've never seen outside these lovely 48 states (matter of fact, I've only passed through about 11 of them, and truly visited a mere four or five). These past few years, as I work harder and begin to find better jobs, I was able to tuck some money aside. It fluctuates anywhere between one-third to three-fourths of what I need to make the trip. Bri and I began planning it in detail: we'd fly to London, take a boat to Calais, spend a few days in Paris, take a train across Switzerland, visit Florence and Venice, and possibly cross the sea to Greece and see Athens, if there was time. Then we'd take a train back up to France, stopping in Austria on the way, hop across the Channel, and fly home from London, the way we came.

Then her life changed, and since it now looks like she might wind up taking care of her mom while she passes the Bar exam and starts up her law practice, setting money aside for transcontinental travel is just not feasible. Meaning there's a chance I'd be making this trip alone, if at all.

And this summer, when mon coeur and I were talking about taking some vacation time together, he wanted to drive to California to see where he grew up, and (incidentally) meet his parents. We'd need at least a week to make the trip worthwhile, and he's already figured out a way to get the leave. We'd even semi-chosen a time to go.

However, I know I need to have a job. I need money to fund things like Europe and road trips. I've been applying to everyone and their mother, and so far met with little to no success. I vowed three years ago that I would never go back to food service, after spending the previous three summers working odd, unpredictable hours and coming home covered in sweat and stains, too tired to be hungry, but later too hungry and exhausted to sleep.

And the first job I've been offered was at a restaurant. The restaurant, no less: the one I worked in for three years, storing up those lovely anecdotes about evil managers, getting slammed and staying three hours late, wine stains, buying six copies of the same uniform, and sometimes coming home with just enough in tips to buy myself a Happy Meal for my four or five hours of work.

But hey, it's a job. It's a paycheck. Sometimes the money was decent; it averaged out reasonably well, and I got to sing for people, which was fun if not always lucrative. I can't have my pride if I can't afford my rent, and while my singing jobs cover rent, it's just barely. Definitely doesn't allow me to set anything aside for savings.

While talking with the restaurant manager about the job (that I don't want, but still need), I mentioned that I might need to take a week or two off for a vacation, and she suddenly sounded less than thrilled. It would take two weeks to train me, she says, and by that time I'd be wanting to leave. Even at the latest possible departure date, I'd only get to work for a week or two before taking off. So there's a chance that if I want to make this trip to California, I won't have a job, and thereby nothing with which to finance said trip.

Somehow I get the feeling that other employers won't be too far from that vein, and might retract their job offers if they find out I want to take a vacation. But I don't want to not take the vacation. I've been looking forward to it for several weeks (right after I stopped dreading the idea of meeting his parents, which is still a scary prospect, but no longer completely terrifying).

There's also a new wild card. The man who stepped in to understudy Iago for Othello this spring is co-producing a production of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, and he asked me to audition. Actors even receive a stipend for their performance, a share of the profits. Except rehearsals fall squarely into the time that we'd planned on our vacation, and performances run to the end of August, interfering with future gigs at the synagogue this fall.

It is so frustrating. In my entire life, I've never so entirely wanted to be in two places at once. I'd give anything for a magic wand to split myself in two, so that one could work like a dog all summer long, on into part-time in the fall and the singing gigs, while the other traveled the country with the man she loves and got to perform on stage with the Bard she loves.

I have one last interview on Friday. One last hope. If they're willing to give me even one week of vacation time, I'll have no problems, because the other things can just naturally sort themselves out.

Fingers crossed.

Comments? 1 so far...
Not a Diaryland member? Sign the Guestbook.