Page 6 of Zach
anyone sees it.
Quitting my job is barely a blip. I have plenty of money, and I get offers from other companies and
from headhunters constantly. One company has been particularly aggressive in trying to hire me. The
Brash Group. I don’t know much about them and honestly didn’t care to. No way would I leave
Birdie’s vets. They’d given my girl three extra years with me, and I’m so thankful for that time. But
now, my only tie to this city…to the world, is gone.
The future stretches out in front of me, long and lonely. I’m not sure what the right next step is for
me, but the idea of staying right where I am, being forced to pass this park, to walk the routes I
walked with Birdie, sounds horrifying.
I can’t do it.
I don’t want to.
When I return to my too-quiet apartment, I kick off my shoes and drop into my favorite chair. Its
familiar softness settles me. I stare out the window at the brick wall it faces and contemplate the
tattered remains of my life.
I have nothing tying me to this city anymore. No ties anywhere. Which should be comforting for a
loner like me. But it’s really not. Because I don’t really think I am a loner. I like being around people.
I just never seem to know how to interact with them. My whole life has been an exercise in avoiding
sticking my foot in my mouth. It’s only at work that I seem to know the right things to say and do.
Even this tiny hole of an apartment is an exercise in avoidance. I can afford better, even in the
outrageous Manhattan market. But I’ve never moved because I know every crack on the sidewalk and
every shop owner in a three-block radius. I never spoke to them, but we traded smiles. It made me
feel like I wasn’t completely invisible.
But now, doing nothing is more terrifying than doing something.
Plopping my computer onto my lap, I open up my email and tap on theIgnorefolder I created.
Dozens of unread messages from dozens of marketing agencies and corporations. All wanting to hire
me.
I haven’t applied for a job in a decade. Can I even do this? I’ll have to go to interviews and let
people judge me. I slam the computer closed and rest my head back on the chair, willing my heart rate
to slow.
Change sucks.
