Originally, I was going to write about the funny story of my first concert last year. But right now, I need a break. On Sunday, I had a small panic attack when I saw how little money I had left. On Monday, I had to pay my part of the rent and began job searching. On Tuesday, I submitted a job application. On Wednesday, I called to follow up and they asked me for an interview at 2 on Thursday. While this is good, I have the stress of needing a job and having a job interview (of which I can count on one hand).
If I do get the job, I'll need to learn the entire workings of a completely different restaurant while learning their alcohol menu and what to ask for each order. Sure, I can learn what comes with the steak and what table goes where, but alcohol knowledge is stressful for an underage girl who doesn't drink. Especially at a chain restaurant that gets applications all the time. Plus, while learning a brand new job, I still have to complete school. I'm learning geometry which I only have six (very, very long) lessons, but then I have pre-algebra and algebra 1. My goal is to finish by the S post (wanna guess my topic)?
But I can handle all of that. It's life. It will work out for the best, one way or another. Fight through, right? (I'm on my phone but see this post for context: http://when-a-lion-sleeps.blogspot.com/2014/03/ill-help-you-through.html?m=1)
But then I heard about the tragedy in Fort Hood, Texas. My dad and his best friend from the time I was a baby until his death in 2009, were stationed there. When I was 4, we lived on base. I broke my ankle playing tag with our dog and my first cat in those townhouses. I used to pack one diaper bag with a pair of shorts and "run away" to my Uncle RJ's house (that would be the friend) when he came by to visit. I watched Blues Clues and played with my stuffed animals there. My dad took me to work a few times on base, even after we moved, and once I didn't have a cast that weighed more than me.
Even after we moved off base, we stayed nearby. So did my Uncle RJ and his family. My dad owned the house there until I was nine or ten. The house in yesterday's post, actually. My uncle stayed there after my dad was out of the military, until they moved to Lousianna, where my dad also ended up moving. After family drama, my dad's biological brother (Uncle JC) left his family in Lousianna. The last I heard, about two years ago, he was stationed at Fort Hood.
It's been years since I've been there, but I knew people and nearly all of my friends had military families. My uncle could still live there- I honestly don't know yet. Neither does my dad. He found out about it tonight as well and we agree its shocking enough to hear about a tragedy somewhere, but a place you have connections or memories? He was in some of the same buildings as the last Fort Hood tragedy days before it happened. Now, he's doing everything he can to make sure we don't have any funerals to attend.
Update: April 3rd, 4:26pm
I don't have any news yet on my uncle or my dad's old friends. He was only able to get in touch with one former co-worker who lives in Fort Hood, but that co-worker is in Alaska at the moment, so my dad only succeeded in making him very tired from the early morning phone call and extremly worried since he hadn't yet heard the news. I'm going to be updated as he finds out more.
In the good news, I went to my interview today and the manager liked me so much, I have a second interview with the other manager on Saturday. That's taken some stress off because things are going very well. It also gives me a day to think and get other things done (like catching up with the comments here). I'll have more details later on, probably in my W post (wanna guess that topic?), but if I do get the job then I have to take out my nose ring. Which sucks since it'll probably close up by the end of my first shift, but as I told him, I'd rather pay bills than have a hole in my face.
I'll update this post as I find out more but I'll mainly use my twitter (@whenalionsleeps) until I know everything. Sending prayers to all of you, hoping that what happened in Fort Hood brings mental health awareness to light, but also hoping nobody had a funeral to attend.