This October I became a waitress. Yep, little 'ol me! Its a high-stress job, but in a weird way I love the adrenaline rush and never-knowing-exactly-what's-happening-next. It took about 2 months to finally feel comfortable in my job. There are moments when I want to pull my hair out. . .or just crawl into a corner and cry. I used to think people were generally kind with good intentions until I became a waitress. ;) Ok, so there are a lot of good people out there, but there are just as many, if not more, cranky, nasty, generally mean ones as well. They want their food and they want it NOW. It doesn't matter how frazzled their server is or how many tables she's running between. She is expected to sprout extra arms (haven't exactly learned that one yet, :P) and fetch more drinks, bread, dressings, croutons, extra napkins, oh, and more coffee, of course. . .all within the minute. And all at once. Oh yeah, did I tell you? Being a server is like being your own private circus act. You learn to balance and manipulate and make it look like everything is ok--it's your job, after all. Even though the man at table 13 just yelled at you because he waited an extra 2 minutes for his pie. . .and a child at table 43 threw his silverware all over the floor and needs another spoon. The costumer is always right.
Just a day in the life. I could write a novel just with 2 months of serving experience alone.
Of course there are the awesome, slow-paced, well organized nights when I feel on top of my game and everything runs smoothly. Those nights I have wings on my feet and the stress just melts away. I'm quick witted and rule the restaurant. Or so I like to think. ;) There is always a nice older couple or two that can't believe I don't have a boyfriend. . .and are more than willing to hook me up with their grandson. The man who sits at the counter every night, rain or shine. . .just so he can get his cup of coffee. The little lego dude I found under one of the seats. Catching up all my tables so that I actually have TIME to do my sidework. Bringing home leftover banana bread for the family. The little girl who wrote "thank you Michaela" on a napkin in purple crayon, decorated with hearts and flowers. The family who felt sorry that I was working on Thanksgiving and left me a $100 tip. . .
I knew when I came back from Colorado that God had a special reason for me being home, and every day I discover another clue, another key to that reason. Sometimes it feels like time is standing still. . .I loll around and try to be productive during the day. . .then go into adrenaline-rush-I'm-so-busy-nothing-else-in-the-world-is-happening-right-now mode at night. Every night except Sundays. But I'm making money, and after 2 years of being unemployed, its an amazing feeling. And who knows? In 6-7 months, I may just be heading back to my beloved Rockies. :)
(Photo © Lauren Smock and Ivy Schexnayder)
God has taught me a lot in 2015--there are ALWAYS new beginnings. As a perfectionist and my worst enemy, I always expect the very best from myself. Well, God has taken that attitude and turned it upside down! Even after some very bad experiences, He is showing me that I CAN do all through Him. I've accomplished more in a personal way this year than ever before. It's thrilling. Most important of all, I have met some of the most raw, genuine, beautiful people in the entire universe. The friends I've made in 2015 are the kind I've always imagined. Real. Life-long. To me, that is worth more all the success in the world. This Thanksgiving season, I have a lot to be thankful for.*~
"There are years that ask questions, and years that give answers." --Zora Neale Hurston