Changes (turn and face them)

So today was my first day of work in a while, and I have a lot to go through.

First of all, today was great, the customers and all the people I work with were grade A, not sucky today.

Friday, I went down to my grandfather's shop to work on my MG ( a car that he is letting me buy, yes it is a privilege).

Then I went down to Publix store 281, where I talked to the manager,

and after my eighteenth birthday, I will be cashiering there.

so three more weeks at the store where I was hired,

where I had my first job, and I learned to play the managers, and do my job, and how to work, really work.

I love it at 405, and despite my cynicism, I don't think at this point in my life there is a place that I would rather work, that is why I want this job for Sam, so he can hopefully get the same experiences, and the same feeling of belonging.

I will be switching stores because I will be moving, to winter park.

Which means that I will not only work someplace else, but obviously live someplace else.

Something that in my real memory, I cannot remember, I know that we did move when I was six, but I don't remember doing it.

It is scary.

Life is scary.

The worst part about moving is Sam.

By leaving I lose him, I don't have my boyfriend anymore when I move, all I have is my grandparents, and I am really unsure how they feel about me.

They have always had their own life, and I have only seen them on holidays and other special occasions.

And to be honest, I don't really think they like me very much. I think that perhaps they made the offer to give me room and board a little to flippantly for their liking, and now they might feel as though they are stuck with me in their life.

I hope not because I really like them, and I want them to be happy with me, I mean after all, it is nice to live with people who really want and value your presence.

I think I forgot to mention that, that I will be living with my grandparents.

Which I guess is good, because however much I like Publix, they pay me little more than 8 dollars an hour.

which in order to even cover an apartment and utilities, would be upwards of seventy hours a week, and I get like twenty.

So I guess that i am stuck, in a transition phase, where nothing is certain or favorable.

and it is tearing me apart.

I think if I didn't have an outlet like this, I would succumb to the depression and insanity that hovers in my genealogy.