« Camping Made Complicated | Main | Cautionary Tale »
The shortest item on my résumé is the entry for 1992-1998. "Nutglade Station: Owner-operator cafe, bar, and bed & breakfast. Did it all." Words do not seem to do justice to my involvement with the six year project.
It was an incredible learning experience, socially, politically, and economically. I began bright-eyed and optimisitic and left having learned lessons completely different than those I expected to learn. As with the most important lessons, I learned mostly about myself: what I could and could not do, what I could and could not expect of others (e.g. the public), and what the fun and distinctly unfun parts of operating a business were.
I also learned that worklife problems are secondary to personal problems: Nutglade was the first major test of our new marriage, which was quite literally born there.
I have delayed creating a proper homage to Nutglade, perhaps out of fear of all the emotions it will dredge up; saying goodbye to Nutglade was the first time Roomie ever saw me really cry. Babies will eventually grow up to break your heart, and Nutglade was no exception.
While Nutglade liberated me to make full use of all my faculties (from designing posters for the acts we hosted in the bar to schmoozing with the Sheriff), it was also extremely confining. I did not choose my friends, but rather they chose me: My worklife was my social life. Vacations were few and far between, I forewent my education, and nearly every day of the year was scripted. It is hard to imagine moving to a place for the scenery and spending so little time admiring it.
Despite the exhaustion I feel merely in recalling my worklife there, I miss it sometimes. The people, the sense of knowing what I am going to do next, participation in a real community. But I wouldn't go back there without one Hell of a budget.
Posted by Underblog at June 2, 2005 6:43 AM
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://blog.mayoreric.com/blog/cgi-bin/mt-tb.cgi/188
Since all I've done since we moved here is burn the midnight oil, I can completely sympathize with not getting to enjoy the scenery. Worst of it is, I don't see a break in the weather anytime soon. I'm not complaining about the work--better to have it than not!--but I do need to figure out how to quit working once in a while.
Posted by: Suzanne at June 2, 2005 7:35 AM
I remember staring out of the upstairs window feeling sure I'd never see a different view from that one ever again.
Posted by: Sherman at June 2, 2005 2:58 PM