After the Branson trip, I paid the energy bill, restocked the groceries, and filled my car with gas. Then my school cashed my tuition check and I suddenly realized I needed a job right away. What was I thinking with my lackadaisical "I'll apply for a job when I find one I like" thing? Admittedly I've applied for a few in the realm of animal advocacy but they are very competitive and I've got little to show for myself. Some people don't like when I say that but I feel confident in my lack of understanding of how most things work. But more importantly, I like myself, so I'm not hurting my feelings. Anyways, a small financial panic began as I imagined reverting to my early 20's, standing behind a cash register with a customer service smile plastered on my face. I know I'm only in my 30's now, but I don't think my back can handle a job that requires me to stand there anymore.
I brought my news to Mom. "I'm going to have to get...to get..a job!" She understands the horror of the monotonous. But she did that thing only she can do, and I wound up kind of excited about the lack of responsibility of an easy, summer job. "If I was 20 years younger," she said, "I'd go work at Berts on Folly Beach." She was right. This could be fun. I left her house mulling over how I'd re-do my 20's if I didn't have the burden of life ahead on my shoulders.
A few days later, I pulled up my Chris Union pants, called up a kayak tour company, and told them I'd like a job. I'll zoom ahead and tell you that it's my third week as a kayak tour guide on the Folly River, but actually I haven't done any solo-guiding yet because I haven't completed my safety training. In my early 20's I really wanted to give kayak tours but I lacked the courage to attempt the stunt. I looked into it once but you were required to be a certified naturalist, so I wadded up the idea and threw it over my shoulder. Instead I'd stare longingly at people with such cool, outdoorsy jobs and wonder what it was like to be part of the world.
Well I'll tell you that everything I dreamt about the job is not true. Not yet anyways. I do not feel cool or confident. I've gotten a little seasick every time I've gone, panicked about the hot weather, gotten bored on the tours (they're 2 hours - that's too long), and wrenched something in my forearm trying to pickup those enormous plastic tubes. I know I'm new and all, but everyone else can throw these kayaks around like they're folding chairs. My arms can barely keep up. Everyone who works there is all knowledgeable and unconcerned about the countless scenarios I've dreamed up in my head where things go terribly wrong. And when I ask about these things, they kind of shrug and suggest that it probably won't happen. Do they not understand anxiety? Am I the only panic-riddled human that is foolish enough to ever try to be a guide of some kind? WELL WHAT IF IT DOES HAPPEN?? So I lay in bed at night and workout solutions to my aqua-disasters. Because I want the job. I think it's so cool. It just scares the daylights out of me. There are so many opportunities for problems.
I had a meltdown after my third shift whereupon I got very very seasick and subsequently decided the job wasn't worth the angst it's causing me. Mom agreed. She just gets me. The part of me that has to live life decided I would quit, but the part of me that watches me live life knew that I would be sad if I quit this for the cash register life. I told Brett all my worries and he made me feel worse by accident (he suggested I talk to a therapist) (he's not wrong), so I sat on the floor, pouted, and eventually decided to keep the job. It scares me physically but the cash register scares me mentally.
So I have a summer job now, which is great.
Here's an unrelated and collectively unflattering photo from an Eisenhauer family wedding this past weekend.
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