An ode to my sister Julie

Monday morning.

I wake up before my alarm goes off and already begin to dread the day.
Today I will find a job. Today I will find a job.
I keep repeating my mantra but begin to remind myself of the awful mother from American Beauty "I will sell this house today", so I stop.

I have never, in all my 23 years, had to look for a job.
This is going to be difficult for me.
This is going to be good for me.

We start off at the IEP office and I email my resume to a couple of nannying agencies.
I've made up 3 different versions of my resume by now: one service, one office, one childcare
I'm willing to take anything that comes my way.
I look at the job postings in the office, jot down some phone numbers and begin to make some calls.

Five phone calls down, no positions available.
Ok. Don't start to panic...You're one hour into the job search, it's fine.

I kiss Jeff and tell him that I'm "hitting the streets"
I do this casually, pretending this isn't the first time I've gone out by myself into this strange country I've been in for only 6 days.
We'll meet up later, keep each other updated on how the search is going.

I leave the building.
I'm out in the city, by myself.
I feel like I'm going to puke.
I start walking, and walking, and get horribly lost.
This is good, I tell myself, I need this, I need to do this on my own, to find my own way, to start to understand the city myself, and what better way than to get hopelessly lost in what looks to be the only industrial district of Sydney.

Take a deep breath. Look around, and start walking again.
I find my way back to the harbour. I am standing outside store fronts.
Normal people do this all the time, they just walk in and ask if they're hiring.
I force myself into storefront after storefront. No positions open.

Ok, time to text Jeff, ask how it's going with him.
No response. Ok, keep walking. Stay focused
Head to the mall by our place. There's got to be something there.
Jeff texts me back, he's on the phone with some agencies...
I text him again, telling him I'm starting to feel the panic setting in. I am starting to freak out. He says he feels like I'm a dove he's set free...I tell him that this dove is freaking out!
No response

Walk into the mall, and approach a countless number of places. No one is looking to fill any positions.
I've never had to do this.
Where is Jeff? Why won't he respond to my text message?
I'm alone in the middle of this damn country and I can't get ahold of the one person that can help me feel a little less lost!

I do not like being rejected, especially from some little ice cream shop in the mall.
I start to really panic and I can feel the tears coming to my eyes.
Maybe I can't do this. Maybe this is too much for me to handle. I've been spoiled all my life when it comes to getting jobs.

A text from Jeff:
"Mary, I have total and complete faith in you. Stay cool and optimistic, it's so early, still. I'm here in the bunker with you."

I'm crying now. And I'm trying to tell myself to calm down.
I need to get my shit together. I walk out of the mall.
I look up at the sky and I take a deep breath.
I'm walking by some construction workers and one of them yells something suggestive to me.
I laugh a little, well at least the construction workers are the same, no matter where you go.

I get to our place, and I go to the computers in the lobby. I look on one of the message boards for jobs and see someone has posted one this morning. Looking for 2 part-time servers onboard the Floating Restaurant...3-4 months, 25-40 hours a week. I jot down the number.

I call and she asks me to come in and fill out an application.

I arrive to find this massive ship in the Darling Harbour. It's called the South Steyne Floating Restaurant (www.southsteyne.com.au). I fill out my application, hand it to the manager Sarah, and she asks if I'm available to work tonight at 5.

I manage to force out the word yes, and I'm on my way back home.
I text Jeff and say that I got a job
I'm shocked.
I'm terrified.
How fitting...terrified of not finding a job, and then terrified when I do find one.

Jeff walks me over and also fills out an application before my shift starts. We'd been discussing how it would be nice if we could both land jobs there and have around the same hours.

We're sitting outside the boat and I tell him I feel like this is the first day of preschool, and I don't want him to leave just yet. I ask him if he can stand outside the boat all night long so when I look out I can see that he's still there. He laughs and give me a kiss and tells me I'll do fine.

I start my first night of work as a waitress...except tonight I'm simply showing people to their tables and running food.

I will not survive tonight.
My fingers will give out on me.
My arms are burning.
My body aches in a way that it never has before.
And I don't even have any tables yet!!

How does Julie do this?

I remember casually mentioning before I left that perhaps I would try waitressing in Sydney. Julie chuckled and said that I would return with a newfound respect for what she does.

She has no idea what respect I found for waitressing.

It's not like I am thinking, this is really hard, but I'll get through, I'll manage.

It's more like, I am not going to make it. I am going to collapse here and die, buried in plates of fillet mignon, and they will have to put that as my cause of death, how very sad.

I only get through the first night by promising myself that when I am finished I will quit. This night will mark the beginning and the end of my career in waitressing.

Funny thing happened though, at the end of my shift.
I got through and I thought, I can do this again.

So I did.
I showed up the next night and I did it all over again.
And it was just as hard.
And again I promised myself I would quit at the end of the night.

Yet when the end of the night came and I walked out to find Jeff waiting for me at the end of the pier to hold my hand as we walked home, just as he had the night before, I thought again, I can do this.

It's the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life.
It's different than anything I've ever done. And it's completely out of my realm of what it comfortable...
This is going to be good for me.

Tonight I work for a 3rd time. And I know the drill. In the middle of my shift I'll again promise my own resignation, but more likely than not, I'll survive, and I'll show up for work the next day.

Thank you Julie, for showing me not only that it can be done, but it can be done very well and with an amazing attitude and a constant smile. When my arms feel their weakest and when my fingers are about to fall off, I draw strength from you.

-Mary