Where last week, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball somewhere and die, now? Now, I am fighting back. I don’t want to move back to Michigan, so I’d better find something that’ll keep me here. In that respect, I applied for a part-time job at my sister’s company, and she sent me resume and cover letter to the person hiring. I have an interview with her on Wednesday at 11:00. It would be assisting with renting apartments for four communities on the east side, and maybe once I get my foot in the door there, I can find something full time to change to.
As part time won’t pay the rent, I also applied to the breakfast/brunch/lunch restaurant I’m obsessed with. Seriously, I used to eat there every weekend, before money got really tight. I know most of the servers and one of them suggested applying, as they are down two servers and the tips are pretty good, as it’s in a nice neighborhood and across from one of the biggest malls in the city. I have an interview there at 2:30 on Wednesday.
At this point, I’ll take whatever I can get, and it’ll have to do. I just can’t give up everything I have here because of one hiccup in the road. My therapist and I talked a lot about the situation when I saw her last week, and she helped me put everything into perspective. That’s when I started looking for ANYTHING that would make it possible for me to stay here, even if it means I have to work two part-time jobs, or go back into food service. I have a lot of experience in fast food, and I have excellent customer service skills honed by both 7 1/2 years in fast food, and 5 1/2 years working with crazy people and their equally crazy and undiagnosed families. If I can juggle that, I can juggle plates of food and maintain a smile for eight hours.
I talked with my mom about the situation last week at some point, and she said that she and my stepdad are talking about selling their house. It’s a huge Victorian that is a pain to keep up with, and now that all of us kids are grown up and moved out, it’s too much house. I asked mom what that would mean, if I was living with them and disabled. Mom said that they’re wanting to find a smaller house, that has an attached apartment for me, so then my living costs could be better controlled, I’d have my own space, but they’d be right there if I need them.
I had already been crying, but this made me cry harder. Here I’ve been feeling like I’m being held at arm’s length and nobody wants me, when they’re planning on finding a place with my specific needs in mind, so it’s available if I need it.
It’s nice to know that things aren’t as bad as I tend to make them out to be.