I woke the next morning wondering for a moment where I was. Then I remembered. I was starting my new life. That scared the shit out of me at the same time that it made me feel wonderfully happy.
“I can do this,” I told myself as I got dressed. “My artwork is selling and I can get a job too.” I kept talking to myself, giving myself a real pep talk, as I gathered up what I needed and headed out. First thing I had to do was deposit the commission check and then stop by the art shop to tell them my new address.
As I walked out the front door of the building I broke into a huge grin. There was grass and trees and people going about their daily business looking happy to be alive. So different from where I’d been just twenty-four hours ago. A block away I found some shops, a small café, and thank goodness a branch of my bank. I stopped there first, putting most of the money into my account, keeping out just enough to have some pocket money. Despite what I’d told Trev the check was enough to cover my rent for two months and let me stock up on food once I found a grocery store.
Trev. I was still very angry at him, and hurt. Probably more hurt than angry. What had I expected? That he really accepted what I did for a living? Well, had done. Not any more if I could help it. Yeah, I really had thought he didn’t care about that but obviously I’d been wrong. He’d been stringing me along, although I couldn’t figure out why. I thought we were friends and if I were to be very honest with myself I thought maybe it could become more than just friendship, or hoped somewhere deep inside that it could. Guess I was living a pipe dream.
Pushing all that aside for the moment I stopped to pick up a newspaper then went to the café. After getting coffee and a sweet roll I found a table on the patio and opened the paper to the want-ads. There were lots of places looking for waiters, the only job I figured I stood half a chance of getting. I circled those that looked promising and when I’d finished set out to start checking them out.