I'm sorry about your burned bagel.

I worked 7-12 at the coffee shop on Monday. That was my first early morning shift and it was pretty freakin crazy. Tons of people, so many bagels (toasted or not toasted, with butter? what kind of cream cheese?), tons of coffee to brew...it was all pretty awesome. Except for when I didn't know what I was doing. The manager realized I had not been trained on what to do with the pastry items. I mean, obviously it's common sense stuff, but there's always a "way." Like, do you cut the muffin vertically or horizontally? Why are there two toasters and which setting do you use? So I was learning as I went.


Well, this particular morning there was a woman who looked like she was on her way to the hospital. White scrubs (or pink), kind of tired looking, a kind yet apprehensive face. Anyway, she wanted a plain bagel with butter to go and of course I used the new toaster that didn't have a label for the "perfect toast."


So I popped it in and waited. And by wait, I mean I took a ton more orders and got distracted and kind of forgot about it until it dinged and I realized it kind of burned. And there was still a huge line of people waiting for their order to be taken. And that poor nurse was just sitting at a table waiting for her damn bagel and I didn't know if I should a) toast another one and make her late for work or b) just give her the slightly singed one. I mean, late to work or dark bagel? In that split second I decided to just give her the burned bagel and hope for the best. She didn't say anything about it so I hope she was still able to enjoy it. If she looks worried about her breakfast next time I see her I'll probably tell her that I adjusted the toaster setting to "perfect."

It's not school but there's a learning curve.

This is me in the laundry room at my parent's house. (Note: I'm living at my parent's house...) I like to think that the dress project is sort of like my life. My life as I know it slash sewing are new to me and I and hope the finished product is wearable. (The dress turned out great, thanks to my mom.)

Since I've been home I've experienced a broad spectrum of feelings. I figured I would be totally great. You know, glad to be back but also looking forward to returning to CR for language school. Why would I be emotional? But I have been...not in a dramatic sort of way (except for that one time, Dad - I'm sorry), but in a "I'm not comfortable" sort of way.

It's strange living with my parents. They're great but I'm 25. I'm used to having my own place and doing my own thing. Not answering to anyone. I am so thankful for the time and space that I have to save money but it's definitely not easy.

I have two jobs right now - being a nanny and working at a coffee shop. I think this in-between stage is what I was always afraid of when I imagined myself quitting my 8-5, benefits, feeling-important jobs. But it's not that bad. Granted, I wouldn't want to do it past the summer, but if the plan goes well, I won't have to. I'll be back in Costa Rica doing language school by September.

The uncomfortable things in this stage like not having my own place, not being active in a church and feeling grossed out from all of the dairy and meat I've allowed myself to consume are just stepping stones. When we're doing something new, it's not comfortable. We have to ask for help and be willing to learn. Humbly. And that is probably the hardest lesson I will have to learn this summer. It's ok to need help as long as we ask for it.