Back when I lived in St. Croix, we liked to go to this place called the Brew Pub, anyone who came to visit me, I took to the Brew Pub. Well I had gone with some friends, and I wanted to try something I hadn't had before. I saw on the menu that they had friend pickles. I didn't have enough money to buy the appetizer and an entree, so I just bought the fried pickles, having heard that they were amazing.
I got the basket, and I bit into a fried pickle, and it was like the earth moved. I loved it! They were amazing, and I didn't even like pickles then (I do now, but my stance on pickles tends to change frequently and violently ... so who knows how I'll feel next week). Anyways, I really loved it. Everyone at my table had one, and then I had another ... but they were fried pickles, and while tasty ... there was a limit to how much I could handle, so after my second fried pickle, I was done.
But I still had a basket of fried pickles in front of me, and I had spent precious money on them. What had started as something amazing and good, ended up being a big basket of 'oh no'. I sat down and munched away at those fried pickles, my roommates laughing and making fun of me, while I kept saying, "I don't want to, but I can't just leave 'em! I got myself into this, and now I've got to eat my way out."
I was SICK by the time I was done, and now ... I will never again eat a fried pickle ... ever ever ever again. (fried pickles even became an inside joke for my roommates and myself)
Right about now you might be thinking, why in the world is Molly talking about friend pickles?
Well. It's because I am back in my basket of friend pickles. I arrived in Perth 15 November (that's how they write the date here) and I have been looking for jobs, well, let me put it this way, the first time I applied to a job in Perth was July of this year. And I had a whole lot of nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing.
Finally, 2 December King Edward Memorial Hospital offered me a position, but later told me that my start date wouldn't be until 19 December, and that odds were even that I wouldn't start even that early, and that was only if everything passed through ... meaning that I was left being told that I might not actually have a job after all.
At this point, I felt like I was going to be unemployed for the rest of my life.
So, the search continued, as did the the building stress. Until, 7 December (my birthday) I got a call from Conor with Kelly Services. His dad had apparently lived in Arizona for a bit, and so after a quick chat with me said that I could have the job, if I wanted it, I went down to the city, filled out some paperwork, and the very next day I was the newest and only Temp at Morton Seed and Grain in Bibra Lake.
Morton Seed and Grain buys grain for people and animals from farmers in Western Australia, and then they sell it to all sorts of places, including, exporting it to both India and China. I was feeling ON TOP of the world my first day, I was helping a great deal, and they kept thanking me for being there (they had to downsize a few years ago because of a drought, but now they have more grain than they've had in several years, and simply don't have nearly enough people to handle it all, I'm there to help and make sure no one quits before Christmas). I finally was ACTUALLY working (it felt SOO good), and it was a short temp position that would last through Christmas, things were fitting together perfectly. I had this job to last me until King Edward finally pulled through. Like I said, I was ON TOP of the world.
I came home from my first day temping, to two phone messages. The first, from Josh with King Edward Memorial, and the second from the Department of Child Protection. I assumed that Josh had called with bad news. For one, he had called instead of emailed (which is how we usually communicate), but I was happy that DCP had called, and tried to leave a message, but it was after business hours and I just kept getting transferred to the main phone tree, but thought it was no big deal. I had spoken with DCP earlier and they had said that they might not be doing anything until February anyways. So I thought it was interesting but didn't think much of it.
I came home Friday after another work day (woo!), first to an email from Josh. 'you've been cleared, and you can start on 12 December' Monday... this Monday (I'm writing this late, so technically today), a full week before the tentative start date that he didn't even think I would be lucky enough to get, and I could start on Monday (and now I have a temping job too).
I also had two emails from the Department of Child Protection and a second phone message from them. The emails both said that they were trying to get a hold of me, and the voice message said: "If you want a job, call us back"
Basket of fried pickles. Almost overnight I had gone from having NO job, to having THREE.
And of course, this all happened on Friday, meaning that there would be NOTHING I could do for two days until Monday. Of course, the job with DCP is the job I want ... it's the 'beginning of my career job', so THAT job is my priority. But they were only calling to schedule an interview there are no guarantees with them, and even then, I still don't think I would even begin training until February 2012. So, I am in a basket of pickles. I emailed Josh, and was very honest about my situation, and ultimately said that I would be happy to work after Christmas but that I would need to leave for DCP, given that opportunity, so I also said that I completely understood if that didn't work for them (obviously ... I figure it won't, but I thought it was best to let them tell me that, than simply assume it for them). Ugh.
Now I have to figure out what to do from January to February ... and that's if I get the job with DCP.
basket of fried pickles.
Well, I would definitley say you are in a pickle, a fried pickle that is. :)
ReplyDeleteYor doing awesome Molly, everything will work out the way it needs to, "Keep your head up."