My kids woke me up the following morning around 7:30. I was feeling like roadkill, and Allan said I could stay in bed, but I decided to get up anyway. Afterall, I'd rather feel like roadkill and share my wealth than sit alone with it. I putzed big time all morning and we headed to church around 9:40, which is "late" for us. I told everyone in our Sunday School class about our little escapade the day before and everyone had a little laugh. I couldn't sit through the service, because I was feeling crummy, so I hung around in my Childbirth & Beyond classroom so I could get up to drink anytime I needed to.
After church was over, Allan and the kids came and got me and I decided I was done for. I was starving half to death, but the idea of standing in the kitchen, preparing anything and especially cleaning it up drove me to tears, so I suggested we go out to eat. This is my flawed logic...I figured since we'd have to pull more money from the emergency fund before the end of the month anyway (because EVERYTHING has been going crazy) that we may as well not make Mommy cry by going home. So we chose Denny's.
We actually all very much enjoyed our time there and laughed quite a bit (when I wasn't hunched over my chicken noodle soup like a zombie). We got up to pay for our food and on a whim I asked the cashier if they were hiring.
Thought process? "Are you hiring?" "no, but you can fill out this application and we won't ever call you, but you'll feel better because you *tried* to find a job." "Thanks! Now I can go about my week grumbling about the economy, but not really having to do anything."
Reality? She said, "I'm not sure, let me ask my manager." Then she went back to the kitchen and practically bolted back out and said, "my manager will be out in just a second! Wait right here!"
So Allan took the kids out to the car and got them loaded up and out walks the manager and says, "So why are you looking for a job?" I said, "My husband is a disabled vet and he's going to be a prosthetist but he hasn't gotten his certification yet. It's gotten to the point that someone NEEDS a job." So she says, "what shift you lookin' for?"
Let me tell you a couple things about me. First...I know the food service industry fairly well. It's pretty much all I've ever worked in my life. Second, I seem to have a knack for it.
That said, let me fill you in on restaurants and hiring. 1. If there is a 3rd shift, that is all they are ever hiring for. 2. they don't want part-timers. They want people who can or NEED to work 50 hrs per week. 3. They especially don't like people who say, "I can't do..." and "I won't do..."
So I cringed a little inside as we sat down and I told her "second." But then she pipes up and says, "WOW! It just so happens I have a girl moving in 2 weeks who I need to replace. She's on 2nd."
Then she asks, "what kind of hours are you looking for?" So I cringe again as I say, "I would have to be *very* part-time. I homeschool my children and I'm heavily involved with my church." She replies, "How many nights are you thinking?" I said, "Three?"
And then she sits there and calculates for me which nights I would make the most money on...."Thursday and Friday are the best nights, so how about Weds, Thurs and Fri to make things easy?"
And I know that I physically grimmaced when I said, "I can't do Wednesdays...I teach a class at my church on Wednesdays."
"GET OUT! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!? You must not need a job *that* badly!"
is what I thought she'd say.
Instead she said, "no problem. How about Tuesdays? Kids eat free on Tuesdays, we're always busy."
"I'll start you right away. Come in Tuesday at 5. You need to wear black dress pants, black, closed-toe shoes and a plain black belt. I'll get you a shirt."
"By the way, what's your name?"
"Good. I'll see you Tuesday, Tara. Perfect timing!"
"yeah...me too. Praise God."
Then I trudged out to the car with my head pounding and snot dripping to my chest and thought I might puke as I told Allan, "I just got a job. I start Tuesday."
And I did. And I was terrified, but it's kinda like riding a bike.
I hate leaving my kids. I'm pretty sure that I told God before I even believed He existed that I would *NOT* be a 30 year old waitress at Denny's. (Yeah...I sure did...10 years ago) (I won't be 30 till April. Maybe He'll rescue me before then) I hate being so deep "in the world" while being vulnerable because I need to be there. But I can't find any biblical reason to not be there, so there I am. And you know what? It might just be amazing. Stay tuned.