It is done. They know. And my going back to Portland, at least for a few weeks, is not threatened. And unless I get a rather kick-ass job nearly immediately, I won't be able to stay much longer than that. (But remember that I did manage to find a place to live within a week of arriving last fall.) But if I do not stay in Portland, to Denver I will go. I won't stay in Albuquerque just yet. My sister has a place I could live, and connections as far as jobs go. I think she even knows theater people up there.
The discussion did not go badly. The only bad part about it was my dad prattling on about things I didn't really need to hear, and suggesting that I not stay in Portland long at all and instead come back here and get a job for a place that has been advertising on the radio and pays a good hourly rate. (He was talking about CitiBank, though he couldn't remember the name.) Um, no. I would rather be dirt poor making minimum wage in Portland working at a job I enjoy (such as a theater job, but there are no guarantees) than here making good money at a job that HURTS MY SOUL. I shudder at the thought of an office job. Gleh. I did that already. The only reason I didn't absolutely hate it was because I knew it was temporary, with a clear ending date. My plans for the next four months do not need to include saving money. There can be time for that later. My plans for the next four months do include doing things that make me happy, so that I can be in a better position to think about the things that need thinking about.
So it's over. (Mom told dad over dinner.) I'm no longer shaking. But I am left with a headache and a heavy feeling. Sleep will most likely cure at least the headache. But now I can move again.
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