How Lindsay Got a Job

This will be long because I like to write every single detail. Feel free to skim to the end. 

I was idealistic in my job applications when we moved to Ohio. From the time I returned from Ukraine (late June) until the time we moved, I applied for jobs (and let's be honest here - I applied when things looked good, not all day every day). I wanted a 9-5, Monday through Friday sort of deal. An administrative job was what I had in mind. I love working in an office setting, even if it's not a high paying job, so I even applied to a few local schools for administrative positions - how nice would it be to work full time and then have breaks when Carson did so we could see family or have them come and see us?!

Those jobs didn't pan out. I got nicely worded emails and phone calls replying to my queries "Thanks for applying - not gonna happen!" (paraphrased, obviously). Since we hadn't moved to Ohio yet, I wasn't worried, but I was tired of looking.

Carson applied to jobs for me in his free time, since he really enjoys job hunting. He didn't exactly tell me what these jobs were, just that he saw things that I might like or have done before.

I received a call one day, "Hi, I'm fasdjfhs and I'm calling from dfjglsjfasf (that's what it sounded like). We filled the position for a preschool teacher that you applied for, but we have a position in the infant room, are you interested?" I figured out that this was a daycare and that Carson applied, since I wouldn't have.

And if I'm being honest, I wasn't interested. I love kids. I do not love being in a room of other people's children if the children are generally undisciplined and there's not really any kind of structure. Forty hours a week with small children is a lot if there are eight to twenty of them that are the same age and you're stuck in one little room all day long. My last daycare job was not my very favorite.

But I'd been praying for a job, so I told the woman on the other end that I was interested. She was all about me interviewing ASAP, so she asked if Thursday, the day after we moved to Ohio was okay. I said yes, and then later moved it to Friday.

The same week that she called me, I was out with my friend Catherine when Carson texted me and told me, "What would you say if I could get you a guaranteed job?" I am not an idiot, so I asked about this job. It was at a coffee shop, which is the kind of job I've always thought that I would hate, plus I don't like coffee. And they were hiring, and my good friend Rachel (my next-door neighbor in Spokane)'s brother works at this particular place (small world). It sounded a million times better than a daycare so I filled out the online application and called the manager. We set up an interview for the Monday after we moved to Ohio.

So I had my interview at the daycare and it went well. I liked the staff, I liked the policies they had, I liked that the place was bigger and more structured and that they used a Bible based curriculum.
I could tell that the woman interviewing me liked me. I liked her too. But I just didn't know. She didn't offer me the job on the spot, so thankfully I didn't have to make a decision.

Later that day, I went to my friend Erica's rehearsal dinner, and then the day after that was her wedding. I spent almost the entirety of Sunday sleeping because that was one of the busiest weeks of my life.

Then I went to my interview for the coffee shop. I couldn't tell how it was going because the questions were fairly typical interview questions. I can have a normal conversation just fine, but "What would you do in this hypothetical situation?" questions freak me out. Two days later, I had a second interview with a different manager to get a second opinion and she promised to recommend me for the job. I waited several days before finally calling.

During that time, the daycare called back. They wanted me to start on Monday. I would be full-time right away. I'd been praying about this job for a little while, and decided to turn the job offer down. It would have been a thirty minute commute, I would probably get sick a lot like I did the last time I worked in a daycare (that's how Carson got pneumonia two years ago - through me passing those germs on from a little kid), and I had a sinking feeling.

The coffee shop took several days to call back, which scared me since I'd turned the daycare down.
I called them on Monday, when they were (so they say) picking up the phone to call me. I got the job - could I start on Saturday?

And so I did. I started on the first of September. I am a barista at a coffee shop, which is the last thing I saw myself doing, since I'm not the bubbly personable person I feel should work in that industry.

And you know? I love it. It's one of the best jobs that I've had. I love my co-workers, I love that I'm busy, I love that if I'm going to come home smelling like work, at least it's a good smell (i.e. not a diner  or something where I'd smell like old food). I love that they've been flexible with giving me time off twice for weddings. I love that almost everyone there has been patient as I learn and gain speed (so much to remember). There are benefits (including free drinks) and even though it's not at all what I had in mind, it is perfect.

I wanted something that sounded grown up, that gave me a predictable schedule, that was a little more administrative. It's none of those things, but I've always hoped to have a job that I didn't dread in the mornings, and this does fit the bill. I don't think I'll be here for the rest of my life (never say never), but I'm enjoying where I am right now. Best part? It's a less than ten minute walk. To drive takes a ridiculous 90 seconds (and when it's dark, yes, I drive there). God's blessed me in this job.

So when you order your next double tall pumpkin spice latte, think of me. I'm making them all day long in Ohio :)

Carson took this while he was waiting for me to get off work