So, uh, let's start off with the big part. I got a job. At Hardee's. Like, almost on the spur of the moment. I mean, I filled out an application last week when I filled out several others, but they never called me for an interview. I went in for an interview with Taco Bell Wednesday, and the manager was supposed to call me back yesterday but never did. So I called her today and when she told me she hadn't had time to do other interviews, I decided to check on my other applications. Hardee's was one of them. I felt somewhat hopeful about them because they're the one place I remember seeing in town that actually had a "NOW HIRING" sign out front. And well, patience isn't exactly my strong suit and all I could think was how I want to get a job.
Note to self: Calling a fast food restaurant at noon on a Saturday? Not a bright idea. Luckily, the lady was very nice and just said to call back after 1:00 and she'd be happy to talk to me about my application. So I took a quick nap because Blake was actually sleeping, and called back about 1:15. It took about 3 minutes before she asked me if I could come in at 2:00 for an interview.
Cue the scrambling to shower and get ready because I was a bit of a greasy mess.
But I made it. And the lady was actually very nice, and she remembered Chelsea (because Chelsea worked at that Hardee's a few years ago) which was a bit awkward, but she liked me and said that she had to talk it over with her manager and she'd call me later today. Mom had run to the store, got back about 5 minutes later, and by the time we pulled through the drive-through for me to get a snack, she was standing outside saying she was just about to call me to ask if I could come in for my orientation tomorrow.
:) So yay. I have a job. Which is a big relief for my personal finances, because I only have enough money from Mommom for one more semester so I need to eat in the spring plus I have a trip that I have my heart set on making in November, and I can help contribute to the house a little bit. Because when you're this thing they call an adult, turns out your parents expect you to pay some rent. How about that.
After we went to dinner and to see The Great Gatsby (which, by the way, I'd never seen or read before today and found to be rather odd, but Baz Luhrmann is a genius and the cinematography of it all was insanely spectacular) with Mommom and Aunt Barbara, Mom and I went shopping to get the pieces I needed for my uniform together. I was excited all night, and then suddenly, on the way home, I just broke down in tears because I was scared. Scared that I couldn't do this. And mad, that I won't ever be physically normal. Add in the fact that this week is that special time every month when it's just especially fun to be me, and I was a bit of a blubbering mess for a few minutes. But then I calmed down and remembered something - I felt the exact same fear going into DC last summer wondering if I could do that physically. In fact, I wrote a post about that fear here. I even knew of people, even outside my family, who had the same concerns. But I did it. I held a job and went to events and classes and traversed that ginormous city, including an incredibly hilly Georgetown, for 8 solid weeks on my own, and most of the time I was in dress clothes and painful shoes outside in temperatures reaching 100 degrees. It wasn't easy, but I did it because I wanted to and, in my eyes, there wasn't any other choice.
My mama has always told me I do whatever I decide I'm going to do, no matter what anyone tells me are my limitations, including myself. I tend to think I get that from her. :) And I firmly believe things wouldn't have fallen together like this in a matter of hours on a phone call I randomly decided to make if I wasn't supposed to be doing this. So yeah. I'm doing this. I'll keep you posted.
In other God and family related news, on the ride from the movie theater to Walmart tonight, Mom just casually dropped in my lap that she's going to try to get her and Chelsea back into therapy. I may not have a reason to be super excited about this yet to most people, but just the fact that my mom thought about this on her own and mentioned it out of the blue when we weren't even talking about anything related to Chelsea or our issues or anything is a huge God thing. I haven't so much as heard her mention the word therapy outside of the times Chelsea's been institutionalized, so then it was never about herself, in over a decade. I spent so many years begging for her to take us all to therapy (at one point I was convinced that Dr. Phil could fix us), and she looked at me and said that "people aren't supposed to air their dirty laundry in public". And there's no guaranteeing that she'll get Chelsea to agree to it, but I think even if she went on her own for herself it could do so much good for her and how she deals with the stresses of this family. But what blew my mind the most was just that she said it out of the blue and so nonchalantly. God is so awesome. I'm excitedly optimistic to see what He's going to do from here. Something tells me this wasn't a random thing... :)
That reminds me. It's 1:45 now, and I just remembered that I promised Chris I'd post this news on The City because it reminded the both of us of the sermon he gave two weeks ago titled "Pray Big." Prayers being answered years after I stopped praying them...that's God.
No comments:
Post a Comment