So I'm still working the two serving jobs. One is at a country club with lots of young families. Yesterday there was a point where I was just looking after one table. They were a couple with a brand new baby. I joked that if they needed someone to hold their baby while they ate, I'd be more than happy to. I haven't held a baby in years. They actually took me up on the offer, and we got chatting.
"Were you in Ms. G's class?" She asks me.
"Yes!" I say and try to scan her face for any hints as to whom she may be.
Ms. G was our grade six teacher. She was the best. The best of the best. Our entire class was an amazing group of friends. We were like family. We all had nick names and thursdays were do-rag days were everyone wore a bandana in some sort of way. It was the greatest of my academic years. I couldn't believe she recognised me after twenty years!
We spent a while catching up. She had become a dentist, married this very attractive man, got a puppy and a had a baby. They also had a lifestyle that allowed them the $1200/month fees to the club. Life must be good for them. And here's me. A thirty year old server. Single. No kids. Renting a basement suite. This is not where I thought my life would be when I was in grade six. This is not where I thought my life would be when I was 20! It stings. I've been flirting with depression for the past few months, and I'm going to a doctor tomorrow about it, but I realised this evening that I am more ashamed about being a server than I ever was about being a prostitute.
At the wine bar a regular was in chatting it up with the severs and he introduces himself to me and starts asking questions. A lot of my co-workers are going to school and he inquired if I was doing the same. I said no. I had a diploma plus a couple years of university, but I'm not going to school now. He looked at me and asked why not.
"Because this is what I'm doing now." I replied.
"Is serving your dream job?" He asked incredulously, like he wanted to know why I was wasting my life, like it was his fucking business.
"No." I replied flatly.
He stared at me, silently queuing me to defend my life choices, and I stared back daring him to continue with this line of questioning.
It's been almost six months and I'm not very far from where I was when I started. I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life after this year is up. I feel as lost as ever. And I feel like I'm failing. When people ask what I do for a living I tell them that I fulfil my life long passion of bring rich people over priced plates of food. I don't know. Frankly, I just wish my moods were more even keel. I feel like I'm treading water as hard as I can. I would say about one in three days I feel happy just for the sake of being happy, and the other two all my faults and defects are so incredibly glaring, I don't know how the whole world doesn't see them. Today is one of those days.
