Unexpected events.

All my worry about Thanksgiving was for naught-- it was one of the best ones I can remember. The day started with a slew of wonderful presents from my wonderful Evan, after which we packed up and headed to Atlanta for the feast. The total group was Evan, my sister, brother-in-law, cousin and me, and we had dinner with some of my sister's friends who had a beautiful house, excellent culinary skills, impressive alcohol tolerance and the kind of sharp, crass sense of humor that I appreciate most. After we ate, we spread out between a few rooms and left the patio door open to enjoy the night air. At some point a huge, tan Boxer-looking dog wandered onto the patio and into the house and simply made himself comfortable, peering into various rooms and helping himself to play with the family dog's toys (about which said dog was less than thrilled). My sister's friends assumed he belonged to one of their neighbors and asked around but no one seemed to recognize him. He was very sweet, very hungry and didn't bark once all night, so, naturally, they're fairly set on adopting him. Food, family, friends, wine, birthday cake, and a home for a stray dog: that's a damn fine Thanksgiving.

I've had a bit of a revelation since I started the part-time job: I'm not as awful a person as I thought. For ages now I've kind of accepted the fact that I'm an asshole because in a given situation I seem to excel most in the role of the Bad Cop (and I usually enjoy it). I'm seeing now, though, that might not be all my own fault. I'm a completely different person at the new job-- patient, friendly, outgoing and upbeat-- and it's because I enjoy my new job infinitely more than my full-time one. It involves a subject I enjoy (video games) and I get to do something for people that makes them happy (talk about and sell games), whereas in my full-time job all I do is I make them upset (harassing them about money, violations, rules, etc). It is a good thing to know that I'm a nice guy after all, and not somehow broken with my demeanor switch jammed permanently into Surly Asshole mode.

And that's all well and good, but it doesn't really help the fact that I'm working a full-time job that I completely loathe. I love the people I work with, but over the past few months I've steadily grown to hate the work I do and the person I have to be there. This is why I've decided to quit, even if it means dipping into my savings until another full-time position becomes available to me. I can't describe how much it terrifies me to give up a job that's been so secure, well-paying and often rewarding-- especially here in Athens, which has a nonexistent job market-- in favor of a future that isn't at all certain. But the question I keep asking myself is, How long should you go on being miserable simply because you know it's safe? I don't quite know what my future looks like except, with growing certainty, that this job is not going to be a part of it. I'm trying my best to believe that everything else will become equally clear.