My security check went through at the bank! So I’m now officially employed by CIBC. I start on Wednesday.
And I am rapidly approaching terrified. For the first time, I’m going to be working with people who are not, you know, in the fast food industry. Not that the people who work in fast food are not very nice, but the standard of behavior seems to be set a trifle higher at the bank. For example, you have to dress up. This is a clever plot to make the uninitiated feel intimidated. Observe; it purports to let you dress yourself, but you have to wear “acceptable” clothing. (What the other women are wearing. ) My clothing style has been charitably described as eccentric, and uncharitably described as weird, ugly, sloppy, and/or freakish. *bites nails* Read; regular clothes=out. Whereas the clothing you have to wear costs more money. Which I’ve been spending on (a) Debt Remittance, (b) a shiny Computer, (c) Food, and (d) Movies. Also (e) Gifts. I don’t have a great deal in the bank.
Ha ha, bank. Funny bank. Oh my word I’m scared. So there’s the fear of not fitting in, since I do that so incredibly well, except this time my job is somewhat dependent on it.
And also, there’s the large-ish part of me that is petrified of being stuck in this town for a year or more. “They” say that the time will pass quickly. And if it does? Should I feel better about spending a year doing nothing that makes me marvel at the world if I don’t notice the time pass? I just wake up and realize that a year has slipped by without remark? I haven’t even been out of town, except for the wish trip, since April. That is rapidly approaching five months. And let my point out that I am speaking of not being outside of a town with four thousand people. The only place to go after 11 p.m. is Tim Hortons. One of the three sit-down restaurants in town shuts down due to lack of business in winter.
I know, also, that if God wants me to get out of town he will provide a way. And the reverse is also true. So obviously I was meant to be stuck here for the last few months. But that doesn’t stop me being scared. Knowing that a thing is best and wanting it to happen are two completely different things, unfortunately. You always hear about people who have lived in a town for twenty for more years, and they say “I always wanted to travel, but the opportunity never came up.” What if that’s me?
Stupid fear, I know, but really hard to shake. And I also have to put in my notice at McWork, also fun.
This is me, scared….