In the end, you don’t want to move away from your family. Well, leaving your brothers would be all right. But you’d miss Mother’s apple schnitz pie and your grandparents’ stories.
You’ve always had the same friends, too. If you left, they’d probably find a new pitcher for their baseball team. You can’t have that.
Except that you hate being a clerk.
You thought extra lessons were bad? This is much worse.
First, it’s like dressing in Sunday best, every day. All right, not that bad, but it feels like it.
You squint at registers and figures, trying to ignore the spring breezes coming through the window. “All this sitting!” you mutter. “Too much writing!”
As weeks pass, you grow more and more impatient, until one day you lose your temper at a customer. The shopkeeper’s glare is worse than Father’s. “I’m sorry, Mr. Schultz, but I’m afraid that impertinence will not stand.”
And so you’re out of a job. At least you have savings. You could buy a small farm near your family. But you’ve liked being independent.
The harness maker needs an apprentice; you could work with your hands again! And see horses, too!
Which sounds better?