Week 5: Audience & Adult Memoir

I did it; I applied for the job. I like my current job very much but I have gone as high as I can go. I have no retirement plan, I have no benefits of any kind and I’m not going to be making much more money then I currently am. But I do like the people I work with and I love my boss, but that isn’t enough to keep you some place.

After I completed my online application I feel so liberated, like I’m starting to mold my life into what I want it to be. The hardest thing about applying is keeping yourself grounded. I started thinking about shopping for new clothes and wondering who will be in my training class. Then I have to stop myself from hoping just in case I don’t get the job.   

I never know if I should tell people or not. If I tell no one, then when I fail I don’t have to talk about it. But I started telling my family anyway and they wished me luck. That day after work much to my surprise I have an email and they want to set me up for a phone interview.  I felt like I was on cloud nine I can do this.

*******

Today is my phone interview is at 9am. God I haven’t had an interview for almost 5 years, I have always been good at interviews but today I'm starting to doubt myself.

What if I bomb this interview?

What if I don’t know the answer?

I don’t want to have to keep looking for work?

I can’t stay at my current job?

Ok I can’t have any more coffee my brain is running on overdrive. I have over an hour before they call I need to jump in the shower to clear my head. After the shower I get ready for my current job sit at my computer, open the email I received. I try to put my game face on; I sit and watches 10 minutes go by.

My phone ring and here we go.

They have scheduled me for my 2^nd interview for next Friday, I can’t stop smiling. I have just enough time to jump in my car for work. I feel a twinge of guilt; I could be putting in my notice soon.

*******

My alarm goes off for the 4^th time, ok I’m up. I’m going through my normal morning retain, I get Garrett ready for school as soon as he is on the bus I start running around. Shower and get dressed up, I haven’t put on anything nice for a long time. I’m not sure if I like this. My stained tee shirt and jeans everyday is a good thing, I don’t have to stop and think about what to wearing each day. I remind myself that if I could make the same money I wouldn’t have to leave. By the time I was all dressed I stood in front of the mirror, this will have to do.  

*****

It’s do or die; I have a few minutes in my car before I go in for the last interview. All the advice I have gotten over the past few weeks all comes flooding back to me. I’ve got this, they will want me. I walk into the building with my head held high and a little bounce in my step.

I hold my head out for a handshake

“Hello Chris it’s nice to meet you, I’m Amy.”

After all the question where asked and it’s felt like I had all the right answers, I still did not know. I would be called in the next few days. The days didn’t fly by and my confidence keep dwindling as the timed passed. About a week later I got the much anticipated phone call.  

“Welcome to the team.”

Voice; childhood memoir Week 4

             I grow up religious we went to church three times a week. So my whole life I have been hearing about good and evil. With many days at church spent talking about angels and demons.  We would hear about the spectacular miracles and horrific killings. As a young child I remember hearing the bible provide accounts of people being possessed by the devil, some surviving and some not. This knowledge stays with you forever, not thinking that you will ever need it.   

            My mom always knew the best day and places for yard sales. Lincoln was always on Thursday and Fridays where Bangor.  It was a beautiful summer day and we are up early, heading to Bangor. I wasn’t quite a teenager yet so getting up earlier wasn’t a problem. We have made so many trips to Bangor, that 30 minutes in the car doesn’t seem that long.

            The houses seemed so big and ornate, it looked like an old Victorian movie here; Mom told me we were in the tree street.  I had the newspaper in my hand and called the address to my mother. Mom pulls the car over to the side of the road. We both look at the house there was a small sign on the front lawn that said Garage sale. But I couldn’t see the garage anywhere, but we got out of the car anyway. It just didn’t feel right we walked down the driveway to the back of the house, turned the corner then we finally saw the garage it was in the basement of the house.

            The moment I stepped into the dark musty space, I felt something out of whack. I felt my skin start getting goose bumps I rubbed my arms and tried to shake this creepy feeling. I looked around; it was a pretty small garage with a few tables and some hanging clothes. First thing, I look through the clothes I get a whiff of moth ball, it’s an awful stench. Why do old people use those? After a few minutes I have weeded through all the clothes my hands where covered with dust and dirt. I wiped my hands off on my jeans; I made my way over to the tables.   All the sudden I was taken over by that eerie feeling, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.  I looked up and a few people walk in and quickly look around and leave. But then I saw my mom causality looking through a box of books, she looked fine. Maybe this feeling was just me and nothing was wrong.

            I bring my attention back to the table full of knick knacks I scanned the table and spotted a few weird items.  Bookends that had pentagrams on then, a figurine that looked like some kind of horned beast and tooth brush with 666 on it. A chill went down my spine that’s when I stopped touching anything and just walked out. As soon as I stepped out of the dark space I started to feel better, but I didn’t want to look back. I didn’t even stop to tell my mom that I was leaving.

            I waited in the car for her; I was trying to figure out what just happened. Do I tell her about it?  When she got to the car of all things she could have bought at the yard sale, a bible. At that point I knew that I had to tell mom. I explained how that place made me feel and what I had seen. We had only drove down the road a few hundred feet when we stopped at the first trash can and throw the bible away.  

Tone; Travel Essay. Week 3

          Just a few days after Christmas and there is no snow on the ground.  It’s so hard to get out the door on time, when I noticed that we are only a few minutes late I feel like we are doing pretty well.  I hope we can make up some time when we get on the interstate. It always seems like it takes forever to get out of Old Town, no matter which way you go you are meet with congestion. I slowly make our way up Center Street and past Hannaford’s. It’s cold out so we all want something hot to drink, but I tell you I’m not going to stop at Dunkin Donuts.  I don’t understand how a company that’s only job is to make coffee can’t make a consistent cup, my coffee at home is better and doesn’t cost $3.00.

            I start slowing down when I come up upon VIP, then past Governors and hang a right into Tim Horton’s.

“Good Morning, welcome to Tim Horton’s. How can I help you?”

“Good Morning, can I have one large coffee black, one small hot chocolate and a medium hazelnut with extra cream and one sugar.”    

After we pay for our drinks and pull back on to Stillwater Ave. We all take a sip of our drinks what we order is what we got. I can’t believe that McDonald's is going to have two drive thrus, I wonder how that’s going to work.  

            I hang a right, right after Burger King. I pull onto I-95 I put it in 6^th gear and set the cruise control to 78 miles an hour.  This was my first time on the interstate after they changed the speed limit to 75, I always felt bad ass going 75 now it just feels normal I guess.  I have been going back and forth this stretch of highway my whole life and there has never been much to see.

            Its tree’s and field’s that spur no real emotion for mile and miles, till you come up to this one patch of white birches. I know Birches are just trees but they are one of my favorites. They look perfectly spaced out like someone planted them that way. All the trees are leaning towards the interstate and look like they are patently waiting for it to tell them a secret. This small patch of trees in my mind lightens up this dull landscape and tells me we are almost there.

            We come up on mile marker 217 and just around the bend you see the Howland exit. This is where I went to school but I don’t feel pride or shame I just feel home. She a broken town lost all of her luster and spirit.  It’s a sad day, driving through a sad town; it’s a recipe of heartbreak.   We go by run down stores and equally run down homes, it’s like everyone lost hope of better days. I slow down when it’s time to cross the old green bridge I have always felt like it’s too narrow, this bridge was the worst part of drives education if I had to say so.  

            It’s been years since I’ve been down Main Street in Howland; just as I turned the corner my heart sinks. I almost had to pull over and just take it all in. This street is all but dead; the little grocery store that was full of small town character and wonderful fresh produce was boarded up, and it had been that way for years.  Keeping strait on this road we came to street we drove all this way for, Cemetery Lane.

            Of the whole family we where second to arrive, we got out of the car and gave hugs. This shook off the somber feeling this town gave me.  After 19 years my Grandfather finally has a grave stone and it is perfect.