Today I experienced a very tangible reason for why I really think I’d like to try a stint working at a coffee house. Let me explain…
Now that the apartment is pretty much set up I need to find something that gives my days structure and my life purpose. It’s making me slightly nervous that I spend so much time alone, on my computer, with occasional neighborhood wanderings to buy food, toilet paper, or cashmere pantyhose (a decadent winter treat for legs!). So I finally scraped together the courage to ask at two different gyms how I might go about getting a job with them and what their qualifications for group exercise instructors and personal trainers are. The first gym couldn’t tell me because the various contact people for my questions were all busy. At the second gym I spoke with someone who was very helpful regarding the licensing requirements for personal training. Unfortunately, I also found out that they don’t need new personal trainers at that specific club anytime soon. My phone number is also being forwarded to the person in charge of group exercise classes, although the comment was that with my lack of experience it would probably be hard to get a class. Not a lot of positive forward movement, yet.
Back at home I found a letter saying I was denied for an online checking account I’d applied for – no income. What a weird feeling to be 33 and not able to open a checking account on my own. I’m seen as a financial liability!
In a slightly depressed state, I went to the coffee house for some introspection. I was greeted at the door by one of the regular waiters with a smile and three simple words. “Hallo! Latte macchiato?” Immediately my spirits were lifted. It’s nice when someone remembers you and your drink; it’s like you belong somewhere.
While I’m sure there are less glorious aspects to working in a coffee house, I love the idea of bringing a little caffeinated (or not) happiness to others. Which is why the coffee house calls. Besides, how cool would it be to learn how to make milk foam art?!