two things about my new job.

(1) My boss and I found some peculiar common ground this week in emotions.  We had a neat bonding moment this morning where we both used big but vague language and emitted half-confessions of what's "really" going on.  We didn't really say anything but we understood one another.

(1)b. Standing in the doorway trying to leave this afternoon, I was lingering because I was liasing between him and my sister as he was helpfully answering questions about fluorescent lighting and thermostats.  My phone's battery was dangerously low so I thought I could plug it in while I stood there a-texting.

"Do you have a socket down here?"

"A what?"

"A..... thing that you plug this into," I said, waving the adapter around as I scoured the entry way. "A... socket."

At the same time I supplied "socket" he asked, "An outlet?"

Because I had just been getting mini-lessons in how things work that I don't understand (but that are second-nature to him) and trying to relay them to my sister who would have more understanding than me but not perfect, I took his mild correction of my word choice as slightly snobbish.  (I knew it wasn't; he's incapable of snobbery.)

Immediately, my tongue was out, face was scrunched up and tone was borrowed from a sassy seven-year-old as I mimicked, "An owtleeet????" moving my head like I was taunting him.

As soon as I heard it I looked up horrified, adopting I didn't mean that posture and apologized profusely but laughing more and more. He had looked slightly surprised for a moment and then threw his head back in laughter.  He laughed more and more because he knew - like I knew - that the juvenile copycatting was a byproduct of a long, emotional week. 

(2) I've been talking to my boss so much over the past week and a bit that twice today I almost spoke with his speech impediment.  That's a new one.  I hope I don't do it in front of him because it'd be hard to convince him I wasn't making fun.  I liked it better when talking to my boss a lot meant some of my speech and most of my inner monologue had a Northern Irish accent.  I still can't say "ow" sounds like a Canadian.

the for real final countdown that is going to take longer to complete than I thought. (2 of 3)

-I thought about C as I was stocking cigarettes and reached the Peter Jackson menthols. I hoped I'd see him that day because he's a ton of fun but doesn't come round often or predictably.

A few hours later he walked in and I had no other customers and I was happy.

"Hey!"

"Good mooorning..."

Beep. (scanning the cigarettes) "I'm glad you came in today!"

My tone was more uppity than usual so when I said that, a look of concern passed across his face briefly as he asked why.

"Because today is my last day and I wanted to be able to say goodbye to you!"

He made the face that the other roofing guy  made, like he hadn't considered I might ever leave.  He looked like he was blindsided by the statement.  He quickly recovered and returned to normal.  "Why?... What did you do?" he asked with the tone of a disappointed mother.

This guy is a master of turning people's words against them.  It's brilliant.  It's never been so bad that I'm offended or annoyed.  Half the time I'm just fascinated because it takes such skill to turn every sentence of mine around, never missing a beat and almost never breaking deadpan.  He's funny.  I can't count the amount of times I've doubled over laughing at things he's said.  Every now and then I'll laugh so hard it makes him crack up.

Thinking a moment, I said plainly, "I stole."

"Ohhh, right.  I shoulda figured."

"What - because I'm black?  You assume I'll steal?" (The race card has been played in most of our conversations.)

"Well... yeah," he replies with a condescension that rivals Dr. Sheldon Cooper's.  "Black people either become president or they become thieves."

I laughed hard and had that I'm-gonna-miss-this pang that had been popping up in so many places during my last fortnight.  Motivated by the pang, like I had been to try to jump the gap with so many other people, I said, "You're really not going to tell me your Twitter handle, are you?"

I switched gears so abruptly that he was amused.  Last time I'd asked he wished me good luck in finding him and I did not rise to the challenge.  I tried a few things and gave up.  I had wanted to credit him for some awesome quotes.  Now I wanted a chance to continue being acquaintances.

He bugged me about not being able to find him and then asked what my Twandle was.  I told him it was my first name and let him start searching. At this point there were other customers but he lingered to sort this out before his usual Tims run.  I don't how popular the spelling is but I guessed he could find me easily.

He asked if my profile picture was my mugshot which was initially amusing because it's such an outdated and awesome term.  (I do enjoy his vocabulary and intelligence.)  It became so much more amusing when I remembered what the photo was and could tell him, "No.... but it is actually a shot of a mug."  It's a photograph of a glass mug filled with tea.  It's a mug shot.

He asked if I had planned that and though I half-wish it was a pun I had planted I told him it wasn't and then he conceded it was funny.

After the next break in the line I tossed over, "Oh.  You might need my last name initial."  I admit I was enjoying making him work for it slightly.  He's told me before how computer nerdly he is and earlier in that day's conversation he labelled himself a "wunderkind" who was using the Internet before the general public had it.  So yeah, you can jump through a small hoop for my entertainment.

"Yeah, that might help," he returns sarcastically and with the faintest southern accent.

Smiling hard I gave him another challenge: "It starts with the same letter as a four-letter word I'd like to give you."

C. chuckled.  It's so much more satisfying to make hilarious people laugh.  "Is it eeehff?" he asked, drawing out the letter name like he was teaching on Sesame Street.

I nod and finally let out the gleeful laughter I've been holding in.  He changes his search term. A beat later, almost feeling like I've been too mean, I add, "I spell 'friend' with four letters," which makes him laugh even more bigly-er.  Huzzah.

I'm distracted with more customers but as he's heading for coffee he tells me with perfect mysteriousness and veiling, "You may or may not have a new follower.  [beat] Not sure..... Not saying anything but.. you may or may not have a new follower.  [beat]  Just sayin'," and holds his hands up like he has nothing to do with what's going on.

Big smile.  I'm super amused by the whole fiasco.  I'm not sure a last meeting for us could have gone better.  I couldn't check my account right away but I was fully content, figuring that if he followed me that'd be great and if he didn't, I know I asked for a contact as clearly as I possibly could so nothing more could be done.

a small interruption.

I had a wonderful moment in a conversation on Wednesday that I thought I would mention here.








I was sitting in my pastor's office, working through my list of stockpiled questions.  After staff lunch he had asked if I wanted to have a meeting which I took to mean he had something to say to me.  We sat down and he said, "OK so what are your questions?"


"My questions?  You asked for this meeting!" (he makes no reply) "You want me to ask you questions?"

(Don't gotta tell ME twice.)  I pulled up the doc on my phone and looked for the more interesting or urgent or easily answered quests.


One thing I asked about was my terribleness, specifically the terribleness that manifests itself as my wanting to take some glory from Jesus.  I don't want to reach my greedy hand and legit thief things away but some statements (like those found in the Bible... for example Revelation 5:12) make me cringe because I feel bitter about Him being the only one deserving of praise and honor.


I know I'm wrong.  I know He's God.  I know He's amazing, worthy, holy, and the only one who is good.  I get that.  I'll swear by it and die by it BUT sometimes I don't act like it.  The disgusting recesses of my heart can hold to an alternate truth (i.e. a lie).


I asked my pastor to get into Revelation 5:12 and tell me what was happening.  "Tell me why God deserves all the glory.  Tell me why I don't get any credit."  He answered and answered well.  He gave me the same kind of cover-to-cover answer I'm getting used to and starting to appreciate.

I believe him; I know he's right.  I tried to listen and have heart sensitive to the Truth.  (Small change, it feels so far.)


Best part:

He tells me all this and I listen and appreciate.  Then I kinda throw my hands up, after I've explained that I get it but don't, and ask with real frustration, "so what's my problem??"


He doesn't balk but answers carefully, "Now, I don't mean this in a funny way but your problem is sin."  His next few sentences have fragments blocked out because I was goggling about that pronouncement.


It's painfully true and he said it with painful clarity.  I can't tell you how happy it made me to know (to be able to work with and work on developing a friendship with) someone who would speak to me that way.


I'm a sinner.  I need a lot of help.  I can't fathom my reality without His grace. 


Later in the conversation, when we established that this might be a lifelong battle, I said with similar exasperation but certainly more humility, "I don't WANT to be rebellious."  I didn't expect to hear myself say that and literally almost looked round the office to see if it had come from someone else.


I don't want to be rebellious.  I love Jesus and I hate that I steal from Him or minimize anything about Him.  I'm so grateful that He sticks with me despite all that.



I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
 
So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

--the apostle Paul, in his letter to the Romans

It's the final (for real) countdooooooown! (1 of 3)

I think I had sufficiently prepared and psyched myself up for this last day.  I had prayed loads and thought about how things might go and what my priorities would be.  It was overall a pretty good day.

Tuesday, 11th September.

-Before 7am is when Sean came in and I wrote about him in detail in my last post.  We have continued with the very limited contact since Tuesday and it's been mostly fun.  I'm annoyed that I can take so long to forge my reply because I want to communicate interest without obsession.  It's going fine but the acquaintanceship won't last long unless he starts initiating.  I'm trying to go with the flow.  I'm grateful.


-The guy with the big Cadillac SUV who buys duMaurier Distinct small regular every now and then came in after 8 and when I told him he asked about what my new job would be.  When I told him he responded positively which I really appreciated because most people react weirdly.  He told me that he loves kids...and is a big kid.  It was funny and kindly.  Pleasant.


-I don't know this guy's name but I know he works for the same fencing crew as a lot of other guys I've gotten to know.  He and I have had small blips of more-than-business-transaction conversation over the past year and a bit but not much.  He seems shy.  I've served people whose lack of talkativeness could be attributed to any number of things (bad day, distraction, impatience, confusion, rudeness, etc.) but this guy, after serving him over such a long period of time and seeing him in a few different contexts, I have decided is just shy.  He's even shy around his coworkers; it's not just me (a stranger making lame jokes).

He plopped his 500mL of chocolate milk on the counter and said some quiet "hi" after I said, "good morning," with my typical it's-morning-and-I-like-people smile.  He smiled his the-teacher-just-said-"good work"-to-me-in-front-of-my-classmates smile which never gets old.  His eyes dropped to the debit machine and he blushed faintly.

Taking a moment to be sure I was really going to go through with it, I inhaled deliberately and then asked, "Are you aware of how ridiculously good looking you are?"

He laughed and blushed deeper but said, "No," almost right away.

I replied (sincerely), "Really?!" without realising how unfair it is to try to get a person to admit something like that.  "That surprises me," I added, and I'm as casual as if I'm discussing with a fellow fan some recent sidelining of a star player.

He slipped a, "but, thank you," in there somewhere.  I guess I forgot how much that rhetorical question is actually a brazen compliment.

I explained (even though he wasn't demanding it) that I felt like I could say it because today was my last day.  I have honestly been biting my tongue with that observation for the longest time.  I don't know why it's my inclination to just tell people these things, like a reaction that can't be restrained.

His face changed when I said it was my last day.  He looked startled or shocked and then slightly disappointed or pained or like he wanted to say what he was thinking but couldn't.  Perhaps the dominant thing being expressed was that it had never crossed his mind that I might go.  (Not that I seem a lifer but that it's not something he'd think about -- and why would he?)  I saw this face again later that day.


 -Adrian was in shortly after 9, which was a huge relief.  I had forgone a few opps the week before to tell him because I was dreading it (I suppose).  He happened to overhear me say to the guy ahead of him in line (the guy who brings our milk orders, actually) that that day was my last day and so it was kind of a funny conversation after that.

"So it's your last day? Are the rumors true?"

I laughed and explained and appreciated the mutual mild sadness that passed between us.  We talked like we were trying to come up with ways to stay in contact and I guess I wasn't prepared for it.  I didn't think about making the leap with him, I suppose.  At his suggestion we exchanged last names so we could become Facebook friends.

He bought me a hot chocolate.  We parted well & happily.  We parted like this wasn't the last time we'd see one another.  Legit.


-I will call this guy Jack because that's the name on the side of his truck though the name could really belong to his boss, his dad or anyone else.  He buys Toronto Suns most mornings and nine times out of ten has sarcastic, fantastic, dry, ridiculous comments to make under his breath.  It's funnier than I can really capture in words.

When I first told him last week he said something about how devastated he was and how he would never buy another newspaper again.  He was mocking me.  (It really put my in place which was ouchy but good.)

When I saw him Monday he said, "Today's your last day, isn't it?"  I told him it was tomorrow and he said something about how he would try to hold it together.  How he wanted to cry but wouldn't.  This time there was more sincerity and it was funnier and as he walked away I held up my Black Panther fist and urged him, "Stay strong."

When he came in on Tuesday he asked me about the new job and I don't remember what else.  What I remember vividly was how emphatic and earnest he was when he pulled the only serious face I've seen on him in a year in eight months and said, "Well, good luck." I had no time to plan my reaction or remember where I was; his sincerity made me show softness, gratitude and it's-been-a-pleasure-to-serve-you-ousity as I said, "thank you," and nodded (bowed?) my head in a way that could almost be mistaken for a curtsey.

I admit it's weird but enjoyed the goodbyes that took no thinking and ended like both of us know this season had to end and it's fine in the realest of real ways that anything can be "fine".


---

There are ten more names on the list so maybe I'll split this and finish next time.

(not the FINAL, final countdown but something)

I'm so tired right now that I feel sick.  If I can just finish what I need to do tonight without catching my second wind I'll be set.

Today was pretty full and it's too much to type tonight.  There was one unpleasant moment with my boss that I'm still trying to decide about; to decide whether it needs follow-up or not.

On the other end of the spectrum, I feel a very good measure of closure (forgot this is something I'd be looking for) and I did get contact info to/from seven people and that includes the two people I was hoping I'd get to exchange with.  I feel quite blessed.  I see a hundred and fifteen new hurdles in building relationships right now but I'm blessed and grateful.


Yesterday, I said this:

Sigh.  I get one more opportunity to try to connect with this guy.  He seemed quite surprised to hear my news and about 8% disappointed.  We have such a weak base, I'm not sure there will be any leap made to real-life acquaintances.  But who knows?  I'm praying hard about tomorrow.

This morning he, Sean, came in before my shift had started so I was still finishing breakfast when he greeted me with, "It's Mrs. It's-My-Last-Day," and my coworker fetched his cigarettes.

Because I didn't think I had anything to lose I responded dramatically with, "What am I going to do without you?" throwing my arms up in mock-helplessness.

"Yeah, I was going to ask if you were gonna miss me."

"Of course I'm going to miss you." (Still sounds over-done so he doesn't have to know how sincere I am.)

"Yeah, you're gonna miss all my grumpiness every morning."

At this point I'm out of my chair, notebook and pen in hand.  This is one of the longer "conversations" we've ever had so I'm throwing even more caution to the wind.


He says something about how his coworker is really going to miss me (implying some kind of romantic interest) and I brush it off because I think his information is outdated.  But by the time he's finished, I have my name and number on the end of a sheet and it's torn out and handed over.

"Now you can be grumpy remotely," I told him.

"Oh.  OK."  He seems to have about one-third the facial muscles of most human beings so my best guess is that his face was registering shock.  And then, "Wait -- what's the second number?"

Curse my quick scrawling.  I took the sheet from him, ran over the first two numbers again and handed it back.

He says he's going to show it to his coworker who will "probably cry" and I'm desperately hoping the paper doesn't just become a joke and entitlement to bragging rights.


That was just before 7am.  At 7:06 I had a text verifying that this was the right number.  Ha.  We've had very light, very sparse conversation throughout the day, restricted to work and baseball, but it's far more than I expected so I'm grateful.

I'm really grateful.

It's the final countdown: 2.

My last shift is tomorrow and I feel a sort of dread and heavy-hearted sadness about that.  I call it "bitter-sweet" because I wouldn't feel sad if I weren't leaving people I like and care about.  It's only sad because of something that brings me joy.  Paradox (?).


 
Monday, 10 September.


[It's becoming quite the exercise, chronicling out these intense days.]


-Around 8am Jim, "the chip guy" came in and my heart sank.  I'm not like this except when I need to part indefinitely from someone I have a bond with so I don't even know to what I could liken this.  I tend to forget most Monday mornings that he's coming in which is cool because then it's always a pleasant, "Oh, you're here," moment.  Today I was hyper-aware that this was the last.  He put his trolly of product aside and marched right up to the counter cos I had no customers and asked how I was.

I said I was sad and he asked why.  I reminded him that tomorrow is my last day but he had remembered.  He countered that I was, "moving on to bigger and better things." (THAT DOESN'T MAKE THIS ANY LESS DIFFICULT.)

The next thirty or forty minutes were kinda normal.  I was putting cigarettes away and he was working on shelves of his own.  When I realised that not talking to him because I didn't know how to was something I would regret as soon as he left, I went over and started shooting the breeze whenever I had no customers.  It was just weird.

He was trying hard to make it normal for me, to be optimistic and encouraging but there was nothing for it.  We talked about about trying to keep in touch but because I know he's not an emailer, I really don't see how it'll work.  He's a face-to-face-er through and through.  That said, I don't know what the future holds.

When he was done, done, done, packed up and ready to go, he came back over to the counter where I was stocking and drawled his usual: "Well, my darlin', .... I'm off."  We hugged and he said a bunch of reassuring, kind things that I don't remember.  It was such an odd experience: the only way I could tell what I was experiencing and showing on my face was by the way he was looking at me.  It was paternal, kindly and basically urging me to buck up.  Knowing how sad I must have looked made me sadder.  (This is actually a real thing that's really happening.  My life isn't a trial run or front for something else.)

Then he was gone and I barely said a farewell, I just looked and had a watery smile.  Trying to shake it off, I turned back to my cigarettes knowing I looked like a mess and a whole line of Tim Hortons customers saw the whole thing.


-Sean surprised me today because he came in late (around 9) and though I initially read him as having a closed day, he asked, "And how's Jesskah this morning?"  He's never asked me that.  He's never asked me how I am.  Of all days!

I told him I was excited to quit tomorrow.  "Really?"  Yep.  Tomorrow's my last day.

"Then I guess congratulations are in order." (When did he get to be so articulate?)  "Or....wait - did you get a better job?"

"Yeah," I said, exhaling weirdly because apparently talking to him makes me tense up.

"Then yeah, congratulations. Is it around here?  Are you gonna be in Guelph?" he continued as he was walking away.  I fumbled my answer and he didn't understand but he nodded appreciatively.

Sigh.  I get one more opportunity to try to connect with this guy.  He seemed quite surprised to hear my news and about 8% disappointed.  We have such a weak base, I'm not sure there will be any leap made to real-life acquaintances.  But who knows?  I'm praying hard about tomorrow.


-Chuck came in mid-morning and it was finally time to say something.  I've forgone quite a few opportunities in the past ten days because I guess I didn't know how it was going to go.  He was only in for Tims (a rarity) but the line was long enough that he was very close to my counter as he joined it.  I leaned on the counter and said, "Did you know that tomorrow is my last day?"

He didn't hear me so he came close, close, closer playfully.  I repeated myself and he jumped back saying, "What?  No," with a tone completely devoid of playfulness (also an extreme rarity).  "And you just announce it like that??  That's not fair...!"  He's edging back to the Tims line so I have about zero room for defense.  "We're gonna have to chat later," he concludes, not looking at me.  I take my next customer and that's the end of our conversation.

He returns around 2pm and goes for the ATM.  The newest employee is running cash while I supervise so I sidle over to where Chuck is standing.  He's clearly still perturbed and avoiding me so as I start asking if he's giving me the silent treatment, he overlaps sounding like a teenager with, "I can't believe you didn't tell me," throwing his hands in the air and not again not looking at me.  Then, hearing me he says, "YES, it's the silent treatment."

"I thought we had a good friendship going," he says, finally exposing why he's bothered.  I agreed that we did.  He's quiet.

"We could still be friends when I don't work here..." I offer, feeling a bit like I'm coaxing a child from out the closet with a cookie.

"Yeah...." - almost spitefully - ".. we could."

Not sure if he's being sarcastic I clarify with more pep than I meant to, "Can we?!"

"Yeah!" he replies, finally coming around.  "We just need a way to contact one another..." he hints but I've already headed to my bag for a pen and scrap of paper.


-I don't know this guy's name but he buys duMaurier Balanced regular (and later started buying duMaruier Distinct regular as well).  When I saw him get out of the passenger side of a car and the female driver get out as well, I guessed that he'd be wanting two packs this morning.  I guessed correctly, to his delight.  I don't think I've ever preempted the Distinct before.

"Such service!" he exclaims, feeding his debit card to the machine.  I couldn't tell if it was sarcasm ....because he's almost always sarcastic (and the mean brand of it, too).

 Seeing an opp I jumped in with, "Speaking of which, your service will be terminated tomorrow," his face drops a little and gets weirdly serious, "because it's my last shift."

Discerning that I was serious, he extended his hand and shook mine -- without sarcasm.  I laughed because of how easily he had assessed that being able to leave the job I currently had was a positive thing.  It's a refreshing response, I tell you.  It was a little awkward because both my bosses were well within earshot.

We talked a bit about the job, he gave me a sliver of pity and a sliver of advice (ha) and then left with a warm, I-wish-you-well/it's-been-a-pleasure.

(Perfect.)

-Nelson came in on his lunch break.  The new employee was serving and I happened to be chatting to another regular who was hanging out at the side of the counter.  He asked if it was my last day and I said that was tomorrow.  "K, I'll see you tomorrow," he says with determination as she's cashing him out.  I think I just nodded because I was confused.  "What time are you in?" he asks and I tell him.

"OK, I'll see ya." I nod again and then realising he's let down the I-dislike-you facade for too long, he adds, "Just to [flip you the bird]," and I laugh loudly which makes him laugh as he goes.


The regular with whom I was chatting, Shawn, comments to me, "You're gonna have to say goodbye to a looooooot of people," in a sort of sucks-for-you kind of way.  He's somehow assessed that Nelson is one of many, differently from how I've been telling him over the past couple weeks how difficult this transition would be and has been for me.


-Soon after Brendan arrived for the first time that day much to my relief.  He's usually in by 8 and when it was 9 and 10 and 11 o'clock I thought he had the day off and I was regretting not saying a real goodbye on Saturday. I opened with, "I thought you'd never show," (as if he owes me something) and then informed him this was the last time I was going to see him in forever.

"Forever, eh?" (classic detachment of Brendan) "That's a long time."

"Well, not forever.  Basically until I rent another car from you."

"Exactly.  Which could be next week."  He wasn't going to play along with the sadness AT all, which I'm glad for.  Still, I went on to list all the things I was going to have to do without, and he nodded along, allowing me to sound silly in front of the three people overhearing.

As he left he told me I'd just have to rely on Twitter for those things I said I was going to miss.  Having actually forgotten about the Tweets, I said, "Oh, yeaaaah!" with much relief and quickly told him he was free to go/get out of my store/I don't even wanna talk to you, with a rude waving of my hand.  He laughed and made some smart comments and then walked away.

I have no doubts we'll keep up contact as we have, textfully and Twitterfully, even when he was still a regular customer of mine.  And I will probably rent exclusively from them until I leave the city of Guelph or have no need for a rental.


-Mr Shaney-Shane came in on schedule for his start-of-day Red Bull, Powerade and cigarettes.  (Yum!)  At the time, I was stocking cigarettes while trying to explain how to close a shift to the new gal and having the usual exchange of barbs with Shane while my boss served him so I was flustered x 8.  Not a great scene and absolutely no room for me to pull him aside and have a serious conversation -- and not even while he was at Tims or outside at his truck.  He can be kinder if he can see that I'm serious and if I can convince him to let his guard down.  I've been praying for that side-pulling opportunity and so I am still hopeful that I'll get it tomorrow.  I realised on the way home today that even if he wanted to continue contact with me, he'd never ask.  He'd never deign to show affection or interest at that level.

I have a vague idea of how I can meet him 90% of the way and get us to make the leap to real-life but it's dicey.  My intestines apparently think I'm talking to him right now because they're tensing up with nervousness as I type.


Prayer.

Oh, cold weather, I like you.

Hmmm.  I'm trying to blog in the gap between being around people (I've got about two and a half hours now) and in the gap between weeks that are full.


I was chatting with a dear friend this afternoon over hot beverages and when I tried to describe how the church service had gone this morning, I felt like I was herding cats.  Even now I want to open a new tab and do a Google search for ideas on how to use my language effectively to describe it OR to describe how difficult it is to describe.


It was really good.



Sheesh - even now trying to type it's corralling felines!  It's impossible.  (1) The band included our main percussionist who is very talented and acts as a fantastic type of glue for the whole team.  (2) Our only bassist was also on this week after being off for three months as his new work schedule has made it very difficult to participate.  His schedule won't change for a while but he made an exception this week.  I have sorely missed the bass.  (3) With bass, percussion, electric, violin, four singers and piano, we've got something going.  When people hear the full and energetic sound of a full band, their confidence grows. And when the congregation sees a big band, they pay more attention and work harder to be involved.

(4) The service was packed with songs (both hymns and not-hymns) that are well known and well loved by the congregation and songs that I knew this week's band could lead very well.  People sang with us loudly and happily through every song but the one that was new to them as of four weeks ago.  (Legit.)  I hope loud and energetic also corresponds to sincere and Christ-focused in this case.

(5) Lead pastor said at the staff meeting that we should stop singing the song before the service (what we call the "prelude") and just let the band play.  We made that modification to the postlude a couple weeks ago because only parts of the congregation would sing or be paying attention.  Then another coworker suggested we have a Call to Worship (the reading of a Scripture passage that beckons us to focus our minds & hearts on God and what He's going to do in our corporate worship service) displayed on the projection screen but not read by anyone as has been done in the past.  He suggested white text on a black background (instead of the typical landscape photos we use).  I went for it.

So, song without words (with a gorgeous violin lead), then Psalm 9:1-2 and then a pastor comes up to welcome us and give us some announcements.

I didn't think I'd care too much but the seamlessness of the start of the service was truly refreshing. I daresay we might do it again next week. We'll see. 

I also like that I was told to have only instruments on the prelude instead of asked what I thought about it.  It's a good idea, he's my boss, and the reasoning is biblical.

(6) The songs were rich melodically and theologically and the band played them well.  That trifecta blesses my heart (and apparently blesses many others, too).

(7) I read somewhere recently that we must start our services with songs that declare God for who He is if we expect the congregation to respond to sing in response after the sermon.  The guy who said it (who twote it) said it much more succinctly and sensibly and I fear I haven't even paraphrased it well because I don't fully understand it but I have been trying to apply this principle since I read it.  It's not that easy with limiting factors x, y and z but I like a challenge. (8) How often I forget that when I put in more time and work, often the service runs better - not because I'm fantastic but because God is gracious and works through  me (with me?) - and I am able to connect with Him better as well.  (9) This morning I left feeling small because I was in awe of Him and because I know there are things I need to look into and repent of.

I feel I cherish Him more today... And when I don't put as much effort into doing my job, into planning and facilitating the Sunday morning service, I leave thinking about all my shortcomings.  I leave thinking about what I should have done and what I could have done better.  Room for improvement there may be, BUT I should never be the focus like that.  Should not.

(10) I didn't leave the building right away.  This is huge.  I often want to leave quickly because I am a self-centred jerk.  (11) The sermon was too much for one hearing so I need to get into my notes, to pray for help from the Spirit and I may just listen online at some point this week, too.  (12) I tried something new this week to boost up the visuals and it taught me a bit more about my work ethic and mindset than I was really interested in hearing.  It's still a process.  Glad that I didn't have a bunch of people come and tell me they loved it because it would be great if it just blended in.  With time, I'll try more and more but right now I'm just thinking about how my coworkers felt about it because I want to be on the same page.

"As God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe 
yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, 
gentleness and patience." (Colossians 3:12)

(13) The song at the end of the service went so well.  Our pastor's closing remarks stitched the sermon into the closing song like the two elements were meant to be part of the same garment.  He's really good at that.  He also stitches other songs into the beginning and middle of his sermon which blesses me because a) he must be listening/paying attention for that to be possible, b) he is helping the congregation remember what they've sung and draw connections between what we're singing and God's word, c) he and I are [working together] in a way I can't describe.

(13b) Also about the last song, it was a hybrid of an older hymn and a more contemporary song and though I needed to change the key of the second one by a major third and we needed to run over it a few times, the songs just went so well together.  I'm ...amazed.  The hymn was clutch as a service-ender and then I went into my brain database with "contemporary" + "4/4 time" + "medium tempo" + "easy singability" + "high familiarity" + "lyrics that boast about God's general goodness" as my search terms and found one that fit after dismissing two weak candidates.
It was neat that when I explained to the team what I was going for on Wednesday night, the percussionist took a second to imagine it and then smiled saying, "Oh, yeah - that's, like, exactly the same tempo.  Cool!"

I grinned and agreed, "Yeah, I think it'll be good."


A moment later she says, "Do you just wake up with two songs melded together in your head?"  I laughed and said that was sometimes the case but usually I had to think about it a bit.  I have  tendency to be arrogant in most musical situations and I need to stop.  What I realised today when I tried to be anti-arrogant with a comment this morning was that self-deprecation may seem like the opposite but it is not a solution. 

Sometimes people come up to me after service and say how great they thought it was that the music and the message complemented each other so well.  Most of the time I'm shrugging because he and I don't talk about it.  We don't sit at the same table and strategize. He tells me the Scripture passage and that's it.  Last Sunday he said something about how if we each take care of our components the service will take care of itself.  Makes sense.  That's what's been happening, without my being able to put it into words.


(14) After service concluded I closed and covered the piano very slowly to buy myself time to freeze/preserve the sermon in my mind so I could pull it out later and really listen closely to what the Spirit has for me in it before I start talking to other people.  Then I went on the hunt for our lead pastor.  I know that people want to talk to him and he likes to introduce himself to new people but I was determined to find just the smallest window, if I could.  I could wait til next week but I generally like to say things when they're freshest because there's the added bonus of earnestness.

It took a while and I was happy to chat with a handful of people on the way...quite a lot of nice people and none of the conversations felt like painful small talk.  But then, in the main hallway, snagging him JUST as he was finishing a conversation with someone else, I walked up with my hand outstretched and said, "I really like working with you."

I knew it sounded dumb, I KNOW it sounds dumb, I wanted to say it a couple weeks ago but didn't because it sounds dumb but this morning I just went for it because I was bubbling over with gratitude (and YES, I thanked the Lord first...and afterward...and still now...and I'm sure I will tomorrow).  He made the most wonderful face; it was twisted up like he'd just heard a high-pitched whistle.  It was like I had come up and said, "I really admire your brickwork."  It seems to make no sense whatsoever.

But the face had traces of I'm-deflecting-what-I-know-is-heartfelt under the no-one-could-like-working-with-me/why-would-you-say-that?  He asked, "Where did that come from?" which is exactly why I thought my comment was dumb.  Surprised I hadn't thought of a reply (I should always be ready to back it up, as an English major), I gave the caveman answer which was, "from my head...and my heart," but the second part was MUCH quieter and I think he missed it because he was laughing at the first part.

Then he dramatically becomes mock-serious and nods somberly, "Oh."

I continued with a question about sermons but he slipped in, "Ditto," in response to my first comment.  I half-laughed and said, "Good," fully aware I wasn't making good eye-contact.  I continued with my question (from which he inferred a deep compliment, though I didn't plan it that way) and we chatted briefly until someone else came up and interrupted.  I started backing away and seeing this he turned and told me we'd talk more next week.  Then he shook my hand again which was either a "thank you" or he was mocking me.  I'm rooting for a hybrid.


I think what I mean is, "I'm really grateful and excited that the Holy Spirit is working through both of us to do some amazing things here."  It's not really about him...I just like him and want to encourage him.

The final countdown: 3 1/2 (I said it!)

Today - now that I'm home - feels a whirlwind of insanity.  I woke up to an email that kicked my ass.

I headed to campus to see if a faculty advisor would sign a waiver that said the third-year English lecture I took last semester would count as a third-year English lecture (no I didn't make a mistake in that explanation).  She printed some sheets, grabbed a sheet, I pulled up a doc and eventually she signed the waiver.  She said she was well at ease doing it.  (I didn't twist her arm.)

I felt elated for a while.  I went downstairs to some other important people to get it officialised and now I wait but I'm well within the 14 September deadline for such a waiver.

Yeah.

So, I get an undergrad degree.

I don't mean to poop on it but I am now having a few questions about why undergrad degrees are important.  For now I'm happy.  I think I'm happiest because it's like I persevered after I failed so miserably at something.  Most things at which I fail, I leave alone.  I actually tend to sweep them under the carpet or bury them in the back yard.  I don't handle failure too well and I hope the HS will teach me how to since I'm just not perfect and failure is inevitable.

I'm glad, relieved, and grateful.  Now to deal with the feedback is a different story but Holy Spirit, I'm counting on You.


Saturday, 8 September.

I went into work to pick up my paycheque.  I was still deciding whether I was going to retract my offer to cover Saturdays til the regular Saturday-er returned in mid-October.  I felt like I was going insane trying to grapple with being around that long.  It seemed so wrong to change my mind like that (and I offered because I know that shift doesn't fit the availability of any other coworker) but the thought of staying is so repulsive.  I donno.

I asked a wise and kind friend of mine for advice.  The email (the one which kicked my butt first thing in the morning, really before I was actually awake) went as follows:

Jesskah, your word is your bond. When you've lost your word you've lost everything. Always say what you will do and do what you say.

You promised five Saturdays [so] you give 5 Saturdays although strictly in the gospel you give 10.

Matthew 5:41-42

Jesskah, I think you have to do it. It's five more weeks to witness wow! What as opportunity!

I didn't want to hear it. I hated it, really.  I resented it.  But I thought about it all day.  I was going to drop into work at 1pm and this was 8am.  I found it quite difficult to read the email and process the information "objectively".  I was trying to hear that God says I should do it.  That it would be BETTER if I did it.  I ....struggled.  Murkiness of a nineteenth-century murder mystery.

Around 9.15, a coworker I was texting told me that two new employees had been hired and my last day was Tuesday.


WOW.  (I wanted to type "hallelujah" there but it sounds weird.)


I am very grateful....but I feel weird not knowing whether I would have kept my word or not.  Jesus knows what I would have done but I don't and it's weird thinking that His mercy was extended at this time.  I was reading about Abraham and Isaac just yesterday and this would be like God saying, "Do not lay a hand on the boy," before Abraham had even headed to the place God told them about. Before he'd gotten the wood and built the altar.  Fascinating.  I don't know what to say.  If this is just a display of His mercy then... I get it.  MESSAGE RECEIVED.

Still, the unknown is weird.  And now it's super easy to say I would have gone through with it.  I would have stayed at that job til the 6th of October.  YUCK.  I .. don't know.  I need God's mercy more than I realise.



At work it was OK with my coworker and I got to chat with a gal at Tims who I've been meaning to nail down coffee with.

My boss said only, "thank you," when I came for my cheque and that's all I said in return.  Every other such Friday he has loads to say.  Something small talk-ish or something work-related.  I think now he's getting sadder because I have three days left.  I don't know.  I need to ask God what He wants me to say to my boss because I think this is a critical time.  I think my boss will still hear me.  I hope he hasn't lost too much respect for me.  There is much to say.

the final countdown: 5, 4

Monday, 3rd September.

-[I saw Emily on Monday but I didn't tell her.  It didn't seem to come up naturally and when I just volunteer the information out of the blue it's like I'm asking her to miss me.  It's weird.  I want to say something because I want to say a kind of goodbye before I just disappear.  She and I have had a lot of fun.  She usually comes in around 8pm to run a couple hundred dollars worth of lottery tickets.  She borrows my pen and fills out the slips on the counter to the left while I alternate between serving other customers and chatting with her.  It doesn't make sense to let her hold up the line for forty minutes and I'm so happy SHE is the one who volunteers to just stay off to the side.  Works out OK for her as I can process her slips in small stacks at a time so when she's done and packing up, she barely has to wait for me at all.  She's a really sweet lady.  Paid me one of the most amazing compliments of my life once.  Great.

Anyhoop, even if I don't get a goodbye at my workplace, I know she's an owner of a shop in town that I could turn up in, so all is well.]

-Hmm.  Forgot I had written about the Redwood guy last time.  On this day I had the opp to sidle up to him while he was using the ATM.  It's weird... it's weird going out of your way like that.  I guess the idea is that I wish that we could become friends or something.  I think I want to "goodbye" the people that I would like to be real-life friends with; that I would like to have a continued connection with.

Anyhow, thankfully he wasn't fazed by my sidling.  I think I fumbled something like, "So I..... just wanted to say that I gave my two weeks' notice last week and so this might be the last time I see you."  (I did say some kind of "hello" or "what's up?" first, though.)  I got to this point with a few other people and felt the same mild panic that says I wish I had planned a more personalised farewell.  Like, if I were leaving a city/province/country and saying goodbye to my proper friends, it wouldn't be the same formulaic conversation for all of them.  I would have things to say to each individual.  But...these are customers ("customers") so how much can I really say?

To my relief he responded quickly asking, "You quit?!  Why??"

I explained and with less intensity he said, "That'll suit your personality. Still in Guelph?" and I told him yes.  We concluded that we might see one another before my last day and that we might see one another around the city.  He could be right.  So neat.


-[These guys get to be called the Jason twins.  The ice was broken by my mocking them once and I try to keep it up.  One is much more talkative but engages less with me and the other is less talkative but far more acutely aware of me.

On Monday they both had the name "Jason" written on their uniforms.

I goggled.  "Are you actually both named Jason?" and they laughed like someone else had fallen for their practical joke of the day.

But no, apparently the real Jason (the less talkative one) had lent his spare uniform to his coworker.  The coworker said that he tried to rip the name tag off but Jason wouldn't let him.  (Awesome.)  Then, probably because I laughed, he added, "If it was my real name I'd rip my head off." I find stuff like that extraordinarily funny.  I love it when I get to have real laughter at work.

I am going to miss having multiple customers at a time (almost always males) who take the mick out of one another.]


Tuesday, 4th September.

-[Because I'm leaving I thought I should seize the opp to tell one pseudo-regular that he looks like Jose Bautista.  Because he was not in a rush and because he was paying by debit, I asked if anyone had ever told him he looked like the right fielder.  He laughed quite a bit, was shocked and then informed me that no one had ever pointed out the similarity.  I insisted that every time I see him I have to do a double-take.

He said, "I certainly can't hit like him," which was a delightful surprise.  I don't meet too, too many Jays fans that can talk details and I understand that Bautista is well-known as a slugger but this customer had things to say about the whole roster.

I agreed that, "No one can really hit like him," and we talked about his injury, other injuries and the whole season.  It was neat because if I were staying we would have had a great springboard into increasingly deeper/more meaningful conversations because of such a successful breaking of ice.  Then again, I don't know the future so maybe the springboard will be used.]


-I told Linda from Tims that I was leaving.  I like her.  We get on fine.  She likes to rib me about various things and I like to smartmouth her about anything I can.  She's sweet.  She's def someone I'd come back to visit.

She wasn't too surprised ..but the conversation ended abruptly and awkwardly because my (female) boss from twelve feet away answered Linda's question about where I was going even though we were speaking in low tones. This bothers me a) because of the eavesdroppage and b) because I didn't tell my boss where I was going.  Sigh.  I don't need that.


-Two customers my (female) boss likes to call Heckle & Jeckle were in today much to my surprise.  They used to be in like clockwork every day at 12.36 to buy energy drinks but then they stopped for weeks and months which I respect.

On Tuesday, 12.36 came and went so I expected them not.  Tuesday is the most likely time I'll see them and Friday is second.  But then nearer to one o'clock, they walked in and I set to composing myself while they headed to the fridge.  (Sometimes I get nervous/stupid around them.)  I felt more confident on this day, though, because I don't need to impress them; I'm leaving so I should just be myself.

We said our hellos and typical dumb comments (there's always dumb comments coming from one or both sides) and then I told them the scenario while I was checking Cole's lottery ticket.  (He's never brought in any tickets so I was quite glad for something that would extend their stay.)

Darryl exploded with, "WHAT?  Why??  You can't leave.  Where are you going?"

Because he asked so many in a row I had time for three separate reactions before I spoke.  At first I wanted to laugh because the barrage sounded childish.  Then I was shocked that he even had to ask why I'd want to leave a job like that.  (LET'S BE SERIOUS.)  But finally, my inner teenager kicked in and claimed some rights.

"Well.... it's my life..." is what I think I said.  He immediately backed off in a comical way and said, "Good point."


His indignation wasn't put on which I just don't understand.  I cashed Cole out and while he headed to Tims, Darryl stayed to re-ask me where I was going but in a more sensible manner.  I told him and he immediately changed demeanor, now wondering if he could hire me, too.  I harped on his choice of words (because he didn't say "hire") and then had to correct him two more times - now in front of another, amused customer - and then, satisfied, I asked if he was serious.  I thought he may have just liked the idea but not thought it through.

Lunch time is very busy for me so we didn't get too far before Cole was ready to leave.  He said he'll come in next Tuesday to really hash things out.  It probably won't work out but it would SUPER cool if it did.  The more acquaintances I can make the leap with, the more chuffed I am.  So far it's just eight people but I think there are a few more people with whom the transfer could work.


-Shaney-Shane would be one of those people.  I know he likes me and he knows the feeling is mutual but I think he'd be the toughest sell of all.

When I told him I had quit, his first response was, "I bet they're thrilled about that..."  If I really understood how he was joking or what he meant, I might find that funnier.  I brushed it off because that's what I do.  He was headed to his Dodge pick-up and I was headed to Dispenser 12 to change the paper before I headed home.  We often walk out of the building at the same time because my shift has just finished and his shift starts less than an hour later.

He did what I don't remember him doing before which was prolonging the conversation after I had already walked away.  He asked where I was going.  I told him I was thinking of taking up welding [because sometimes I make jokes to mask delight] because he is a welder and I was making fun of him.  He smiled and asked if I thought I could hack it.

I had walked back toward him and was now leaning on the passenger's side of the hood of his car as I told him what the job actually was.  It was surreal on two counts: he just doesn't stay to talk to me once we're outside AND he was telling me how wrong my assumption was that he doesn't like children.  Once or thrice we've talked at length while inside but only when it's about his work or machines or something he's caught off-guard by.  But, there's no way he'll communicate he gives a hoot about me or about talking to me once we're outside.  Unprecedented. 

And as to him not disliking children (he actually said, "I love kids.  I used to volunteer at a daycare") I have no words now and had no words at the time.  I only nodded in shock and said, "OK."  I regret not saying what I was thinking because he was actually willing to stay and talk.  I hate missing opportunities like that.  I was kicking myself for the rest of the day.

But, I've been praying lately that I'll have the chance to say goodbye AND a chance to share the Gospel with him so I have high hopes for next week.  I can't imagine us getting to any significant place of trust and openness by next Tuesday that the Gospel would actually show up but you just never know.  You never know.  I pray for him every time I put his Belmont Regulars on the shelf while I'm stocking cigarettes once or twice per shift.  I'm hopeful.

Whether I get the chance to share next week or not, I'm going to try to fanagle the transition to real-world acquaintances which makes the likelihood of Gospel opps increase drastically.  I have hope.  I really care about Shane a.k.a. Squidward a.k.a. Miserable Shane but he's delicate so I'm trying to prepare myself for Tuesday really being the end.  It'd be OK.

it's the final countdooooooown! 7, 6

I said I was going to go to bed at 7 and it's 8.24.  Now this is happening.  Sigh.  I just like people too much, THAT'S the problem.  They kept me from my nap and then from my early bed.  It's all their fault.


In the two shifts I've worked since I gave my two weeks' notice I have felt sadder about leaving than I thought I would.  I just...... Even the day I was telling some close friends about the decisions I'd made and why when one of them asked about Miserable S____ my face got all sad/pouty and I lamented, "Awwwwwwww, I forgot I have to say goodbye to Shaney-Shane!"  Maybe I'll start using names now that I'm leaving.  That just happened.

I call(ed) him Shaney-Shane because he hates it.  I'm going to miss him and when I realised that I realised there are DOZENS of others I'll miss and need to goodbye as well.  Alors, I am here making a blogful scrapbook.


Friday, 30 August.

-Rhys has been a solid regular since almost Day One.  du Maurier Balanced regular. Works for Barry Cullen and has amazingly curly and very blonde hair.  He's always chill and often hard to read.  He's fond of me and likes that I greet him exclusively with, "Hey, Homes!" He waves to me and says my name in a funny way every time he sees me even though I probably serve him 1 out of 7 times he's on the premises. 

Today I told him I'd given notice and he said, "Oh, good," immediately which made me suspect Joy, over at Tims, had already told him.  I told him he was the first who'd responded to the news that way.  He was happy for me.  He did say, "well, not [good] for us," to my shocked face.


-A man who is a vocal Doppelganger for John Candy was in that night and even though I've only served him thrice, telling him he sounded like John Candy the first time I met him was apparently enough to form a quick bond.  He laughed at first and I backed it up (ever the English major) with, "When you talk I'm picturing Uncle Buck," and he laughed more.  He told me that was a great movie and that not enough people appreciate it.  (bond)

Tonight I said, "Have I ever told you..." and he interrupted with, "Yes.  Once."

I persisted, pointing to the cargo van parked out front, "No, have I ever told you how great it is that you drive a cargo van?" at this point my excited face kinda got away from me.  He was amused & confused so he asked why.  I explained how John Candy's character in Home Alone (1990) was in the back of a U-Haul truck with his polka bums and the guy laughed and laughed.

The conversation went on while he was signing lottery tickets that I was checking and reprinting and he seemed appreciative of my friendliness, mentioning that, "People don't talk anymore," and I don't know if he meant strangers, cashiers or anyone but I appreciate the sentiment.

I'm sad that I'll now not have enough time to get to know him very well at all and form any kind of transferable acquaintanceship or friendship.  Right sad.


-I haven't seen Nelson in ages.  Last time I saw him was also after ages and he told me he'd been away because his dad passed away.  I had that weird experience of feeling genuine sympathy and not knowing how to express it in a way that's helpful and not suspicious to the other.  I listened and asked but he wasn't ready to say much so we kept it light.

On Friday he was a lot more like his normal self which meant blaming me for his lack of winning tickets and giving me a hard time for EVERYTHING I was doing.  I find it amusing cos he knows when to dial it back and I know it's all put on.  It's wonderfully over-the-top put on.  Timing didn't permit me to give him the news so while he was waiting for his Tims order and I had no crustomers [sic] I went over and mentioned, trying to say some kind of, "If I never see you again....goodbye," but it barely came out.  I went back to my post and then a minute later he returned to my counter with a winning ticket -- which never happens.  He always takes the tickets to work and scratches them there.  He asked me about the new job, made fun of me some more and then asked when I was working the following week.  Kind.



Saturday, 31 August.

-Steve hasn't been around much because in his line of work, people get laid off when business is slow.  He's been laid off for months (and their company has actually forbade employees from coming into our shop because they waste too much time...but a few still trickle in now and again).  He asked me what was new and I blurted.  He says, "Oh, you'd be great with kids," as if it was written on my shirt.  I donno.  I've seen him a few times outside of work and we have shot the breeze in a legit way but to tell I'd be good with kids without having seen me with kids...that's fun.  "Fun" isn't the best adjective but I don't have another.


Wow.. I will miss Hughie/Kevin a lot..but I haven't seen him yet so I'll wait to post another time.  :(


-[There is a SWEET lil old man who definitely grew up on the east side of London... possibly on the set of "Eastenders" (1985-present) cos that's all he is to me... and he comes in to buy Crossword tickets.  He.... is just delightful.  I think I've only seen him in recent months and not often and not predictably.  But I love his joviality and his accent (my heart pines hard for the UK some times and Britishness is a significant part of my identity) and the sweet, old man comments he makes.  I can't.. put him into words.  Just a delight.]


-[Matt works for Nissan and he is a strange character.  Known him for a while.  Nissan salesmen fill up a car after a sale and of the half-dozen Nissanites I know, I see him the most.  He was likely born for sales.  He knows what he's doing.

He isn't overly talkative which I assume comes either from having a lot on his mind, not wanting to stay in the shop much, not liking me, or needing to save his energy for chatting up strangers for hours each work day.  Every now and then he surprises me and on this day he asked how long I was in for.  Car salesmen work every Saturday that isn't their wedding or their own funeral so I don't know why he would feel badly for me to be there but hey, I'll take it.  I tell him til 12 and that because I was headed to a baby shower.  He replies with an, "Oh, nice," where he was trying to read whether I was looking forward or not.  I said it would be weird because it was for my brother's kid and he seemed to understand.  He left with, "Well, good luck with that," which I thought was just perfect.]


-I don't know this man's name but should because he told me months ago.  I couldn't picture the spelling so it didn't stick.  I saw him on my way out and went over to say hello.  There are people that always ask where I've been if they haven't seen me in a week or so and sometimes tell me they thought I had quit.  He's one of those so I figured I'd give him the heads-up.

He is so funny.  Funny like... a quality-funny uncle, not a lame-funny uncle.  Sniper humor...classic deadpan... and kind.  He was happy for me to be going on to something better.  Didn't quite get the job..told me I should give him my contact info in case he needed, "....healthcare or something," and he laughs oddly at himself knowing I am not a healthcareiculturist.  ha.  He owns an auto dealership so if he legit has work for me to do that would fit around my schedule, baller.


-[I don't even know how to describe this man.  He is.... I think he sleeps in a redwood he hollowed with out the antlers of a moose he felled. He.... yeah.  Farm.  Very fun.  Mint Skoal (smokeless chewing tobacco).  He let me accuse him of buying tampons once (because the box of tea he'd picked up legit looked like Tampax). He has that small-town politeness that boggles my mind. I didn't tell him I was leaving because our conversation was 95% focused on his beard.

We nodded when he came in cos I had a customer and he was headed for the ATM. After my customer left I turned and asked, "Mint?" because I hadn't seen him in a while.  "Yep," he replies and later adds, "Please and thank you," while I'm at the Skoal cabinet.

When he gets to the counter I open with, "So..... do children get lost in your beard?" because it's bushier and burlier than I've ever seen.  He doesn't answer immediately so I continue, "...Or caribou?" and he said no quite matter-of-factly but let me know that food sometimes gets stuck in.

The rest of our conversation involved him telling me what's gotten in there and how it's a great way to store snacks for later.  I became increasingly grossed out and he persisted.  He must have sisters.]

--

It's bed time.  Tomorrow is shift fifth-to-last.

there's gaps in my theology - THAT'S the problem.


I'm wrong and He's right I just don't get all of it just yet.  At this moment I don't even have an exhaustive list of what needs to change.



the clutchest problem might be that I can't see His full sufficiency.  I know it's true and I'd declare it sincerely to anyone but it just hasn't saturated my inner self.  I don't get how Jesus is everything... I don't get how He means all and is above all.  I can't even phrase my hang-ups sensibly.  bed.  bleh.

when I get this it should change my life.  it should kick my ass and reorient me all at once.  I'm....ready.

Oh, also?

Another first today was that I had to go around asking people if they had insulin I could borrow....because the twelve-year-old gal that came up to chat with me after service - just came up to shoot the breeze - was unbelievably sweet.  She is really sweet.  And...I wish I could be her friend.

Now it feels so unnatural.

Not only have I failed to compose or publish blog posts in the last few weeks but I haven't even thought about blogging or felt the need to blog.

I really hope this is a short season (and that it's not a choice of mine) because I would be sad if I became apathetic about blogging entirely.  I've been without computer access for a few weeks and because I can't blog via my smart phone I guess I just cordoned off the option in my mind.  I think that's what happened.  I hope that's what happened.  I like the word "cordoned".  I wonder if anyone's ever written a sentence in which Gordon cordoned but didn't do it just for the fun rhyme.


I'm in our local church building right now because I'm (passively) supervising a party in one of our rooms.  It's a party for the daughter of a friend of a guy I know from work.  Yes.

I needed to be on site during all the time the party peeps spend here so I drew up a list of things I've been meaning to do (particularly things to do with my job) so that while I was forced to stay in one room I might get those things done.  This idea tickled me.  These are good things that I need to get done.


Five hours later I realise that many of the tasks are so similar that switching from one to another for a sort of break doesn't work.  I thought blogging (while I've got access to a laptop) would provide a good break.  It is. 

One of my tasks is to sort wheat from chaff in our music repertoire.  I have a two-inch binder that should be an exhaustive collection and I'm matching it against the master binder which is exhaustive.  I'm throwing out songs that are terrible (usually they need to be theologically terrible but they can be poetically terrible too, i.e. cheesy, and sometimes I throw them out because the melody is a soggy gym sock of artistic choice), collecting songs I need to add to my binder to make it complete, collecting songs I'd like to work into upcoming services (that list is delightfully long), and collecting songs I would like to try or to learn.  It's a fun process. 

It scores well with many of my enjoyables (like systems, lists, paring, musical (and literary) analysis, ruminating on truths about Jesus) and it will make my job easier.  I'll be WELL happy to be rid of the chaff.  I first started this process last August and have been putting it off for thirteen hundred reasons.  New leaf, baby.  It's time for some new leaves.

Today I've gone from the middle of the Cs to the middle of the Is.... and while that's not stellar it's good.  And I hope to get to the midpoint of our alphabet before I leave this place about four hours from now.

At one point I needed a break because the part of my brain that's trained in sight-reading was tired.  That...has maybe never happened.  It's... great.  I welcome, welcome, welcome the challenge.
OK, maybe I didn't forget how to blog.  That felt OK.  So... what?  I click "Publish" now?

wow, as if it's been three weeks since I posted.

tmi?

Now I learned recently that I may need to renegotiate my perspective on intelligence but I'm still going to make the following statements today.

I really like being intellectually challenged.  I'm not challenged often.  My boss challenges me continuously.  It's wonderful. 

That was a lot of short sentences, the product of sitting and sputtering through several starts to this post, searching for a sensible angle.

Maybe I'm missing opportunities right under my nose.  Maybe they're hidden behind tasks I don't understand and I balk.

Lately I've been confronted with my inability to learn a certain type of new skills.  A friend of mine graciously agreed to teach me to operate vehicles with manual transmission. 

I got frustrated by how I got frustrated. 

It was not a good scene.  ...they were not good scenes.  During the first lesson, after my instructor said I could leave the parking lot, I was in third then fourth on a road just north of the city for probably thirty seconds before I just seized up. I said quietly, "I don't want to do this any more."  I literally didn't know if I meant for that day or for life.

He quickly and gently said, "okay," but sounded confused by what could possibly have changed in such a short time.  "Like, you want to stop right now?"

I felt so dumb, because nothing was outwardly wrong and we weren't in any immediate danger.  The problem was that every time I stalled, every time I did something wrong, every time I failed, I heard in my head someone laugh at me and tell me I was an idiot.  The more I heard this, the more flustered I became and stupid I felt so it really didn't help my concentration and calmness.  It's a miracle I learned anything that day.

After I was able to pull off the road and we switched positions I grew quieter until I was silent.  When my friend put the radio on, I realised the silence was making him uncomfortable so I eked out a couple conversation sparks.  When he dropped me off I had found my Everything's Fine! plastic smile (you know you have one, too) so there was no tension between us. 

I didn't actually realise what'd been going on in my head until after I'd gotten home.  It was happening naturally on the road but when I got home I had to sit down and think through what had put me into an emotional fetal position and was grateful for the opportunity to explain this to my friend later that day.  Explaining it helped me see the absurdity.  It also made me more determined to prove to the two people who had laughed at me in reality when I said I was going to learn stick that I could do it.  It's warped motivation, I know, but it helped and it's better than being pinned.

I had two lessons before I was declared road-worthy and another before I drove in real life.  I learned so I could split a road trip.  My first gig on a highway with a standard car and my first time driving in the United States, I was fine.  I didn't actually think about how to start or where the friction point was or how much gas I was using or what my feet were doing, I just pressed pedals and moved knobs about and we were on the highway.  I did not stall once. 

:)

The second outing I stalled a few times, probably because I was over-thinking.  I yelled a little bit.  I was angry because I just wasn't improving at the pace I wanted to or thought I should be able to.

I am very unaccustomed to chipping away at something for which I have no natural aptitude.

That's the thing I learned over the past seven or eight weeks.  During my second lesson I had a pair of chopsticks sitting in the cupholder.  It dawned on me that that's possibly the last skill I learned that didn't come easily.  I wanted to learn and I suffered through being terrible at it until I got it.  I wanted to be as good at it as I could be (though I had no expectation of being perfect) because I wanted to use chopsticks.  Now, I'm adept.


There's another physical skill I'm trying to learn, too.  I don't really get to practice driving but I can pursue this athletic goal.  I've gone three times since last week and just yesterday I actually saw improvement.  I saw I was controlling my movements better and succeeding more by effort than fluke.  It's sadly such a new feeling for me. 


Several weeks ago my boss was backing up a point about theology by citing Immanuel Kant.  At this junction I mustn't have known he was so bright and not simply knowledgeable and well spoken because I interrupted him, slamming my hands down as I leaned forward on the table: "You understand Kant??"

In my younger days I had tried.  I had given it a decent go but I seriously couldn't get through many full sentences with the slightest comprehension.  (I'm not sure my brain is built for philosophy but who knows?)  So, I was impressed with someone who understood the man's work enough to bring a piece of it into relative context of everyday life conversation.

His return was seamless and reflected an understanding of why I had gawked.  "I teach Kant," he explains and I just lean back and shake my head.  (I think I pulled my jaw off the floor.) 



I like the challenge.  (And no, that Kant mini-tale is not a challenge, it was just a significant moment for me in realising what wonderful exchanges the future might hold.)  But more, I hope that the challenge actually enables me to build mental skill.  I'd be delighted to understand a smidgen of Philosophy (among other things) as it seems to leave me in the dark and I don't think it should.  I think I can get it.