No Longer Unemployed in Greenland

Or at least the first part of that is true--I don't exactly live in Greenland.

Yes, I am enjoying my last 24 hours as one of Obama's tragically unemployed college students. I will soon join the ranks of the part-time working class, and be bestowed the honor of "tax paying citizen." Oh it is so exciting. Dad says if I have them take it out of my paycheck (what a magic word) beforehand, I won't miss it. He's probably right. There are some benefits of being a tax payer though: someone mails you little return address labels that have your very own name on them! And they are so pretty with the little flowers and American flags. So that is a perk of giving the government some of my hard earned money. I hope they spend it wisely--like repave our road that the gas people have ruined.

Anyhow, I know you are dying with anticipation, wondering what the job is. Well, it's not scooping ice cream, or manning a cash register at Walmart, or pouring coffee at a diner, like I thought my college job would be. Actually I hadn't considered getting a job at all this year--I just figured if I did get a job it would be something like that.

A friend asked me back in late June: "So, are you going to get a job now that you are done with high school?" Me, chuckling slightly: "Oh no...definitely not...I'll just do the college thing for now." I am now eating my words by the spoonful because a few weeks ago I got a job offer to work at a local physical therapy clinic. Our good friend Sue Spano works there and when she found out that one of their PT technicians was leaving, she immediately recommended me to the manager as someone who could take the now-open position. Things started rolling, I got a job interview, went in one morning to shadow and find out what a PT tech does (which is walking patients through their exercises, charting their progress etc), and then I got the phone call yesterday morning asking me "when can you start work?--the sooner the better." My reply: "How 'bout Wednesday?"

So tomorrow I don a polo shirt and khakis and go to work. It will be a bit of a sticky schedule until I get my drivers license (we called the people a month ago and the soonest they could get me in was the 3rd week of August--the state has been cutting back on spending and one of the cuts was to shorten the hours the test center would be open. Which is now one day a week for only a few hours). So my parents and grandparents and Andrew will be driving me for now. I'll be working Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays from 2pm-6:30pm, and then Fridays from 8am-noon. I'll get Tuesdays and weekends off. I'm happy with the schedule and it should allow me to maintain good grades in college.

I'm kinda nervous. There is an absolute ton of of stuff to learn--I think there are millions of exercises. lol....but everyone who works there is really nice and patient, and I'll have Sue there as a familiar face. Also I just feel overwhelmed with how this whole thing came about. I had always wanted to work in the medical system until this year when I discovered my passion for writing (yeah right?--I have a blog for 5 years and don't realize I love to write until a few months ago ahahhahaha). So I decided to major in general studies, feeling like that was the best thing for now to get my writing career on the move. BUT my heart strings were still being tugged towards the medical field--which, I thought, was ridiculous. I didn't want to spend 4+ years in a classroom learning how to be a nurse when I wouldn't be able to put what I learned into much practice (once married I want to be a stay at home mom--something writing is a good fit for). So here I am, suddenly a PT technician because of a good friend's recommendation. Normally, you need an associates degree in the area to get a job like this. God's finger prints are all over it, and it's mind-blowing the way he has planned my life to such an extent. Because why should he? Why should he care about the desires of my heart so much that he would get me this job? I really can't comprehend his love and sovereignty.