I got an interview at Olive Garden today! I think I might actually get hired. The interview went well, and I’m perfectly qualified for the position (dishwasher…how hard can that be?). Plus the manager who interviewed me said that if the general manager had been in, I would have gotten a second interview right then. He wasn’t, though, so they’ll call me back later. I really hope they do. I’ve already been snubbed by half the businesses in Burlington on interviews…
I also turned in applications to a couple of gas stations just in case, although I doubt I’ll get hired. I probably don’t look tough enough to scare off robbers. Meh. I don’t really think I’d want such a thankless job. Ugh. I’d probably always end up with the customers who come in and ask for exactly five and two-ninths gallons of gas, or something like that. Or pay in change. Or large bills.
Anyways, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Olive Garden calls me back. Getting a job will not only get me money (and a cell phone, according to my dad), but will keep me from having to do tough labor jobs with my uncle or grandpa. Stacking bricks? Making roofs? Not my idea of a fun time. Especially considering I’ve had to do jobs with them before. Definitely not fun.
And next week I leave for Mexico on yet another church mission trip. I’m really starting to question why I’m going, especially since this trip has forced me to forgo a chance at $600 (playing clarinet for the performing of “Annie Got Her Gun” at McIntyre Hall) and will screw with my work schedule if I’m to get hired by anyone in the next week. Not to mention that we’re going to the middle of the desert (El Paso, Texas and Juarez, Mexico to be exact) in July. I’m going to die. Or at least suffer miserably. I’m not sure which is worse. Yes, yes, I know I lived in Texas for almost eight years. I hated it then, too. I doubt much has changed.
Anyways, I hope I’m not expected to suffer immensely in the interest of helping others. I think I can help other people better when I’m not dying. If anyone tells me I need to suffer like Jesus did (yes, unfortunately it’s a Christian mission trip; we’re going to convert the Mexicans!), I know exactly what I’m going to tell them…and I won’t mention it here because of the kiddies. It’s bad enough what they see on cable TV.
If I don’t come back from Mexico, I bequeath my Xanga to Ian, who will undoubtedly Trekify it beyond recognition. Hmm, maybe I should rethink that bit…
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