who's unemployed?

i was supposed to hang out with my sister today, but she begged off. so i went up to the ole metrotown red robin (wherein i have my humble serving beginnings), resume in hand, to make my face familiar and offer to put my name and number in the back, should they need shifts covered. the manager wasn't in, the assistant manager was busy, would i like to leave a resume and application? truth be told, i would not, as this does nothing towards making my face familiar, and said resume would inevitably be tossed into the drawer of the hostess stand, smothered by scraps of paper with to-go orders scribbled on them, and tossed out within the month. i know how this works. so i said i'd come back tomorrow, and wandered on out.

having this useless resume in my hand, i puttered over to the jellybean daycare center in metrotown and dropped it off, just for kicks. i was exactly one block away from the mall entrance when olga, from jellybean, phoned and asked me to come back for an interview. we clicked. she liked. i have a job. i haven't said yes, but it's mine for the taking. she's dying for me to take it. there are three other people vying for the job, which has to be filled by the 5th, so i have to let her know by tomorrow, but she wants to give it to me. 'what's so special about you, rachel?' she says to me, not in the 'why should i give you this job' sense but in the 'why do i feel overwhelmingly compelled to give you this job' sense. i love Jesus? i have my new pink shirt on? i don't know. the favor of the Lord is upon me? something like that.

i thought i'd be desperately struggling for weeks to find work. to be honest, the thought of lazing around, half-heartedly looking for a real job and picking up shifts at reds, kind of appealed to me. God only knows, though, what's in store. this job feels dropped into my lap; i feel compelled to take it. 'you go on upstairs and thank the Lord,' says my mother.

thanks.