1.3 | Strings & Iron

I woke up the next day and made myself a small breakfast to eat while I perused the morning paper. After tasting my horrible pancakes, I took an ink pen and circled the ad for cooking classes in town. I had a feeling I would definitely be needing those now that I was living on my own.

Then I turned to the job ads. They were hiring all over the place, but one place in particular stuck out to me – The Sanders Corporate Headquarters. I knew right away that was where I was going to apply. When we were married, Ginger had been supportive of my arts and the things I was passionate about like music and releasing my own album…but she had always pushed me to get a more legit career in case my passions didn’t pan out the way I wanted them to. I could hear her voice in my head saying “Something stable, Jin. Something with a briefcase and health insurance.” I had always promised her I would if my music career didn’t take off. Even though she wasn’t with me anymore, I could still make good on that wish.

I wouldn’t give up painting, though, and I still intended to buy a new guitar. I would just look at them as hobbies for a while.

After breakfast, I freshened up and went to the headquarters.

Once I got inside, I filled out an application and to my surprise, the secretary asked me to take it to the CEO himself. I didn’t understand why, but once I spoke to the man, Gregori Sanders, I found out it was because they were in a huge hurry to fill the position. He barely even looked at my application and never asked for a resume – thankfully, since I was still getting used to being alive again and kind of hadn’t prepared for that – he just asked me if I was alright starting out with a certain wage. When I agreed, he shook my hand and set me down to a different floor to get fitted for a new uniform.

I left feeling relieved and strangely excited. It had gone a lot easier than I had expected and for that, I was grateful. Thinking about the wages I would be earning, I started to add up necessary expenses in my head – bills, food, etc. – and decided that I should be able to buy a used guitar after a few days on the job. That made it all worth it.

Since I was already out, I decided to head to the library and read up on some topics that would help with my new job. I can’t lie and say it was interesting or exciting, but I knew it would help me out a bit.

Once I got home, I painted until it was time for bed.

The next day marked the beginning of the first day at my new job. In classic me fashion, I overslept – I didn’t even have time to shower, so I just rolled out of bed, changed into my uniform, and ran out the door.

It wasn’t as busy and hectic as I thought it would be. The day was slow and relaxed, and a few of my co workers were really nice and would stop to chat with me when I brought them their coffee orders. I left that day in a better mood than I thought, and also more money than I had added up in my head. I took it and went to the pawn shop, purchasing the first decent guitar I could find.

After that, it was hard to pull me away from the thing. I loved painting, but music had always been my number one passion. I would play every morning before work and as soon as I got home. Sometimes I would play well into the night, or even wake up out of a dead sleep because I heard a song in my dreams that I needed to hear in waking life.

On my first day off from my new job, I decided I would stop being such a recluse and go to a local park I pass by on my commute. Of course, I took my guitar with me. It was nice to get lost in the music and the sunshine.

To my surprise, someone even stopped to cheer me along. He said I had a great style, and I thanked him whole heartedly. It meant a lot to hear someone compliment my art.

The next day, I gathered up the paintings I had amassed and took them to a consignment shop. They weren’t doing me any good just setting around the house, so I thought I may as well try to earn a bit of money from them. (Besides, they weren’t all that good … I kept the ones that I was actually proud of. I still had hope that one day I would open my own art gallery.)

After I got all that straightened out, I did something I never thought I would do.

I went to the gym.

I had been less than strong in my previous life. I wasn’t a weakling, per se, but I also wasn’t as strong as I could have been. I couldn’t help thinking that maybe if I had been stronger, I could have prevented what happened to me, and lived out my life happily with Ginger.

I knew that being strong in this life wouldn’t bring Ginger back, but for some reason, pumping iron helped to ease the pain of regret.

Naturally, I was exhausted by the time I was done. I’d stayed in there way too long and I barely had the strength to walk. I eventually made my way home and collapsed in the bed, sleeping soundly until it was time for work.