If I could I would work 20 hours a week, be super poor, and do all the fun things that I love to do. I'd have all the flexibility in the world, and be completely happy. All you two-jobbers out there amaze me. That is not something I would ever want to put upon myself. Never will I submit myself or my time to the position of holding two jobs... except for this one week.
I'm currently in transition from going from Starbucks to Trader Joe's, and the working is overlapping by one week.
Shoot me now.
Yesterday I got to enjoy my first day at Trader Joe's at a not-so-bright and early hour of 5am. After getting off work at 130pm I made my way right over to Starbucks where I worked a full shift from 2pm-10pm. That's allotah work, dude. But it gets better.
The next morning I oh-so enjoyed waking up at 4am to start my second day at Trader Joe's at 5am for another hearty eight-hour shift (no Starbucks to follow.. thank the heavens above).
But oh, it get's better.
Errit. Rewind. When I first scheduled my interview I actually forgot the day it was scheduled for about five minutes after I hung up the phone with the person. Awesome. I had to call back later to find out when my interview was scheduled for.
tirrE. Fast forward. Yesterday, when I showed up for my "first day" everyone was acting funny around me for a few minutes until I was approached to be told that I actually wasn't supposed to start until the next day. Oh, wait, you mean that brain thing up there is for storing useful and important information such as really essential things about when I'm supposed to be interviewed and start a new job? Why did they hire me again?
Because I work 23 hours in two days and don't complain about it, bitches. Okay. Sorry. When my eyelids start to shut down, the gloves come off, the vulgarity comes out. Deal with it, bitches.
Just kidding ;)
Anyway. Now I'm going to transition this from saying vulgar words to talking about Jesus. It's a big leap. Live a little (I should be telling that to myself for the last 48 hours of my life I just lost spending most of it clocked into a time-punch, answerin' to Tha Maan.)
Back to Jesus.
Yesterday when I had about four hours left of my working day I was about to lose it. I was trying to multitask with little to zero brain power, and then a poor new-hire got stuck with me to train him on Drive Thru while I was being the miserable, sad little girl that I was. Whaaaa. No coffee in the world could give me enough energy for this. But I pushed through, so, so, so in love with my bed when I got to un-gracefully trip into it when I finally got home to take a nice long nap in the middle of the night before my long morning at TJ's the following day, my "first day", right? Serious run-on sentence.
This morning, going in for that last, long full shift at TJ's I was summoned to go work with Cindy in Flowers for the morning. From 5am to 830am Cindy and I talked and arranged flowers. I unpacked the most beautiful calla lilies, orchids, sunflowers, marigolds, and savored the aromas of the potted herbs. My whole morning zipped by in a joyful, sensual chapter. As soon as my fingers grazed the edges of those velvet flowers I felt the Lord taking care of me. I prayed all week that I would survive these long few days. On the home-stretch God pairs me up with the flowers and says, "I take care of you, Sarah". I was energize by the life, the colors, and the beauty. All my senses were adrift, thinking mostly about a fluffy bed, probably. At 5am this morning they came together and were brought to life.
I was struck by how fragile those flowers seemed... and were, really, but how resilient they actually were with the help of a little water, sun, and love. I felt like those flowers in a lot of ways today.
They thanked me for taking care of them by giving me life.
And I thank my God for taking care of me by being a part of his body and taking joy in his creations, including the people around me, and those colorful flowers.
