The Rest of the 40

(listening to "Combustication," by Medeski, Martin and Wood)
I'm kind of bored.
I'm broke.
I'm a bit numb as far as my job change is concerned.
It hasn't truly sunk in yet that I'm leaving a sort of lower caste for a higher one (again). I quit Starbucks before and got a real job, and the caste analogy seems to be accurate.
I intend no arrogance, smugness or flippancy by my remark. One feels and is treated a certain way when one waits on people for a living. I was often treated quite warmly by my customers, but not as a peer. I was there to serve. When I quit retail for the first time and started working in clinical research, I was a respected professional. I was a neophyte in the business, but I was treated differently than before. At Starbucks, I exceed all of my coworkers by at least a factor of four in seniority. I generally impress my customers (the ones that actually notice, you know who you are) with my work. But it does not substantively matter. I serve them. I am not in any sort of a supervisory capacity, but that doesn't matter, either. I had to eat even more shit when I was an assistant manager. Customers are on unassailable high ground.
Dropping down a notch has really sucked. I have spent the last year waiting on people, loading boxes and making no money at all. Every minute of it has been worth it, considering how I have gone from aimless bachelor to married homeowner, but it sucked. It feels like the ankle irons are coming off. I'm going to work very hard to make sure I never, ever have to go back down again.
That being said, I really believe that retail jobs build character. They should be compulsory for all Americans. People should not be allowed to take themselves too seriously. They should not be allowed to take other people for granted. They should not have an inflated notion of self-entitlement. I also think that it's good to finally get the hell out of retail. There comes a time when it is an insult to human dignity to be forced to serve. However, I love to serve people and make them happy.
When it's my choice.

Now that I've whined and pontificated, I think I will hop in the car and drive to Wilmington. You see, I drove on almost all of Interstate 40 when I crossed the country from San Diego. I haven't done the last bit of it which goes to the Atlantic.