Be thankful for what precious locks you have!

Starting with "Rugs From Me to You" by Owl City is appropriately fun for talking about my interesting customers at Panera Bread. I got the job, and I work there now!

The first interesting ones were from a group of seniors. The lady in charge drafted me into setting up a row of tables--"ten come sometimes, but twelve other times...let's just set up for twelve..."

So I did, chatting with her all the while as I looked at a bag of things they (presumably) were planning to use-- "we go up and down this street every Monday night!"-- I thought it sounded like fun. They sure seemed to be having a ball! We must've had twelve seniors in that row of tables lined up between a booth and a set of chairs. As I told my coworker, "They're the old people who do aging right and make us jealous." Mmhm. I loved them.

Then there was an excellent old man who leaned his arms on the glass above me as I pulled out pastries to restock our pastry display plates--

"You got a lot of pastries down there?"

"Yep, just restocking them!"

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Going to college soon, then?"

"Yeah, in September. My college starts late and ends late."

"Where are you going?"

"California--"

"Oh!"

"--for film school. I'm going to learn to write for movies." (smiling)

"How long does that take, then?"

"Four years to get a bachelors degree-- unless I decide to get my masters degree. Who knows?"

The man smiles at me conspiratorially, like an old crony, "I got my masters degree."

"Wow, really?"

"Even beyond that! Don't I look it?" There's a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, of course!" There's a twinkle in my eye.

"Now," Getting down to business now, "I want you to pick out the best pecan roll for me."

"All right!"

"Make sure you choose right, now! I'm taking it with me to go. Do you like them?"

"Yes, I do. They're one of my favorite pastries. So sticky and gooey and delicious!"

"My mom used to make them for me."

So I got him his roll (the very best one) and gave it to him in a bag with a napkin, fork, and knife. He was so cool. I liked how he took the time to talk with me.

THEN TODAY I met a woman named Carrie who decided that she wanted a chocolate chip cookie along with her pick-up order-- "You can sprinkle some fertility pills on that cookie for me!" (me: ....)--she's on the phone, so whoever's on the other line asks a question-- "yeah, just told her she can put some fertility pills on my cookie so I can have a baby!"

I wanted to tell her I would pray for her, and that was better, but you know-- sometimes I think it's better if you resolve to do it and don't say anything, especially when you're at work and it's not a Christian workplace. Praying for her, and I hope you'll pray too!

So those are my funny customers: bald, distinguished with several degrees, and wanting a baby! If I meet some more (and I'm sure I will!) I'll post about them, too!

-Tina

p.s., linking up with the draftless challenge over at Dramatic Elegance. :)

I Am A Dreamer

I spoke to the manager of a Panera Bread about my application for a job there today. Relatively normal? Yes. Normal for me? No. I've never talked to a manager before or followed up a job opportunity seriously. It was kind of scary. Thinking of working there this summer is even more scary, but I want to do it.

The reason that I want to do it is because I want to embrace life and live it to the full. I am so bad at that from day to day. See, I've got these big dreams-- really huge dreams, actually, but I don't really do much with them. I do school, go on the computer, but I do not motivate myself to go above and beyond and seize the day. I want to be a screenwriter, but when do I write screenplays? Not so much.

This should change.

Seizing the day is not living in the normal. It's living for God and fulfilling your duties in life to the fullest, and appreciate everything you've got and every opportunity you've got when it's there by taking it. That's not to say to overwork yourself, but I'm more in danger of underworking myself, of not realizing my potential. Of not realizing my dreams.

There's another connection to my post title that I found this week, and I'd like to share it with you. It's a poem.

Dreamers
by Siegfried Sassoon

Soldiers are citizens of death's grey land,
Drawing no dividend from time's tomorrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win
Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,
Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.

-------

It's a really sad poem. It is. It makes me cry. But it throws things in perspective. Soldiers dream of doing normal things, and you better believe that if they had the chance to be home instead of on the front lines in that horror, they would live their days to the full. I want to do that, to live like everything is precious.

I want to do more than just dream. I want to act.

-Tina