It's kind of hard to believe that I've been at the same job for over six years now. It was supposed to be six months, and then Life Happened (AKA: Life Kicked My Ass). And it's been great--really. I met a ton of amazing people and I gained work experience that I know is going to help me tremendously in my future career as a social worker in so many ways. As much as I complain and grumble about it, I was honestly pretty happy there for a really long time. But over the past year or so, I just haven't been. I've felt like I don't belong there, like there are better things out there for me. I mean, not to brag or anything, but I graduated second in my class (which isn't that impressive when your class only has 75 people in it, but still....). I was a good student. I'm not a genius, but I like to think that I'm smart, and that I could go to school and get a degree in something I really wanted to do. And I'm so glad that I finally got the opportunity to do that, but even after I went back to school, it felt like I would never get out of that place, and now, it may be over already.
Wednesday was supposed to be my last day of work. I was supposed to work Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, and then be done. But I had traded my Tuesday shift because my little brother was supposed to come home from Ghana and I really wanted to be there when he got off the plane. Then I was going to come home and do my Wednesday shift. I was going to wear the scrubs I've had since the very first day I started there, and buy donuts for everyone to thank them for being awesome coworkers, and say goodbye to all of my favorite residents, and then walk out the door and never look back. I had it all planned out.
Then tonight after I got off work, my mom called and said that my brother's flight was cancelled. They were supposed to leave Ghana today and fly to London, then take another plane to the US or something. But apparently, they boarded the plane in Ghana, and they didn't take off and didn't take off, and finally some guy came to inspect the engines. They ultimately decided the plane wasn't safe to fly, so they put everyone in a hotel room for the night. The bottom line is, we still have no idea when he will be coming home. Hopefully, it will be Wednesday evening, but we just don't know. I was devastated. Like, I know it's just one day...or two or three...and it's not a big deal, and that's what I kept telling myself while I was talking to my mom, because I know she's probably way more disappointed about this than I am, and I could tell she was barely keeping it together trying not to cry. But then I got off the phone with her and just started crying. I haven't seen him in two years, and I have been looking forward to this ever since we found out the exact date and time he'd be here. And if he came home on Wednesday, I knew I wouldn't be able to go down there because that's my last day of work and everything. I was still visibly upset by the time my husband came home from work, but he said he thought he could get off his other job on Wednesday if my brother ends up coming home then, and he would work for me at the care center so I could go to the airport that day.
Which brings me to the fact that today possibly could have been my last day at work, and I didn't even know it. And I didn't say goodbye to anyone, and I didn't bring donuts and tell everyone how much I appreciate all of them. And I didn't go around and say goodbye to the grumpy old man who tells everyone to go to hell before we leave his room every night, or the lady who always wants to hug everyone and talks so fast you can barely understand her, or the little lady who's freaking adorable one second and can turn around and give you a black eye the next. And I just...don't know how to feel about that. Obviously, I can still go in and say goodbye to everyone on my own time and bring donuts or whatever. But it's just not the same. I thought I would have 8 more hours in my scrubs, 8 more hours being a CNA--the thing that's been such a huge part of my identity for the past six years. And maybe I still will get that, and maybe I won't. I'm just sitting here now, realizing that somewhere in all the times I wished I could just quit, maybe I took it for granted. I'm going to miss it. I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm still freaking excited to get out of there, and a part of me is secretly rejoicing in the fact that I might be free already. But I am going to miss it.
If there's a bright side to all of this, it's the fact that I can now use tomorrow to catch up on my NaNo word count. I'm supposed to hit close to 48k by tomorrow, and I'm sitting at 40k right now. I have no idea what happened. I was doing really well and I was a few thousand words ahead for a while. And then I just...I don't even know. Ran out of steam? Or something? But I'm getting to some of the more exciting parts of the story now, so I'm thinking it will be easier to write. I hope.... I was shooting for 70k and I thought that would give me a full draft, but it's probably not going to be quite a complete draft. My chapters are averaging about 3,500 words, and according to my plot outline, I'll end up with about 27 of them, so in the end, it will probably be more like 90k words. Which is fine with me--I kind of wanted it to be longer, anyways. It just means I'll have to keep writing in August to finish the draft, but I should have some spare time before school starts for that. I'm really loving the story and characters though. Whenever I start a new story, I always feel like it takes me a whole draft to really get the characters figured out, and it's kind of fun to watch that happen again. Like, I have all these people running around in my head, but until they're out there on paper, I don't really know them. And once they are out there and I do start to know them, they're ten times better than I could have imagined and I just love them all. I'm having a bit of trouble with the main character, Amar, still. I don't know why I have a tendency to create MCs that are difficult for me to relate to, but I do. Jared was always much easier for me to write than Zira was, and I'm sort of experiencing the same thing here. I have 3 p.o.v. characters--Amar, Kesari, and Tyrus. Kesari is based off an old character and she's fairly easy for me, and even Tyrus isn't so bad despite the fact that he's the antagonist of the story. But Amar....I feel like I'm just barely starting to get a feel for him. So I'll probably end up doing a lot of rewriting for him later, but I suppose that's ok.
Anyways, enough talking about writing. I should go to sleep so my brain can function for actual writing tomorrow.