I was restless. It took me ages to pinpoint just the right word for how I was feeling. But once the word sank in, in buzzed around me like mosquitos, biting into my skin, crawling down my spine. Restless.
Maybe it was that everything seemed to come too easily. If I wanted a boyfriend, I could snap my fingers, and a man would appear, like a helpless worm wriggling to the damp surface. They were all alike, men like these. Predictable machines, operating under the same mindless program. Still, I played my role. I kissed when it was my turn to kiss, threw my head back with throaty laughter, a demoness-angel from an exotic land. A new toy.
It all ended the same, too. His eyes would open, or I would grow bored and ride off into the arctic sunrise. It was silly. All pointless games that only served as entertainment between shifts at the sushi restaurant.
“You just haven’t met the right man,” said Katje, who recently had met the right man and was in a frenzy planning their wedding. “When you meet the right man, it will be like magic. A fairytale come true.” She said this with such a glazed expression in her eyes that made me wonder if she knew what she was in for.
Anyway, I was starting to see that there was no Mr. Right. At least not in Stjernelys. Or maybe he was there, but I was not his Ms. Right. I’m not really sure how that all works.
I began to pour my restless, pent-up energy into making my life better. After all, I had ambitions to be an astronaut, and here I was, grilling teriyaki chicken and rolling sushi rice for minimum wage. What a joke. I enrolled myself in an online master’s degree program and began to spend my spare moments studying and researching.
I used the money I’d saved from working at the restaurant and rented an adorable little house near the science lab.And within the year, I found a new direction to channel my restlessness – my first desk job, in a small but powerful science think tank.
This Phoenix was beginning to spread her wings.