where do we go & how come it's so hard?

I got a job at Sears when I was home from school over Memorial Day weekend. I walked in, applied, got hired the same afternoon. Not exactly on my "most exciting moments of all time!" list.

I've worked there for about a week and a half now, and I almost hate it. The people are okay (even if they do say things like, "If it don't have a pink tag, it don't go there." DOESN'T, people, COME ON!) and I like my managers quite a bit, and I even got to practice Spanish with a customer once. But it's just...menial. I hope that's the right word; it's the one that keeps running through my head as I work there. All I do is rearrange clothes. I move clearance from one rack (sorry, "quad") to another, I put new merchandise out on the floor, I clear out the fitting rooms and spend hours wandering around, trying to find where the left-behinds are supposed to go.

I hurry through all these tasks because, subconsciously, I have something more important to do, but then I remember - there is nothing else to do. This is the only job. Nothing important awaits me. All I have to do is put away clothes.

And it kills my feet. So, yeah. No love lost between Sears and me. (Sears and I? Whatever.)

So then yesterday, I got an e-mail from the journalism advising office - they send them out to all majors every week - that announced an immediate opening for a news intern at the Port Townsend Leader. Apartment included, $500/month stipend. Sounds like a perfect opportunity - and the perfect escape from Sears.

I called the publisher, then sent him my clips and my letter of interest. I talked to him earlier today, gave him the name of a professor who could recommend me, then went out to lunch with my little brother. Just as we finished eating, I got a call - "Molly, Roger [the prof] thinks you're great. We'd like to offer this to you, if you're still interested."

At that moment, the thrilling possibility of leaving Sears behind me forever was such a beautiful thing that I pumped the air with me fist, right there in the restaurant. "YES! Yes, I'll take it!"

But almost as soon as I got off the phone with him, I started to feel....lost. Port Townsend is way over on the other side of the state - I don't know anyone there. I'd be living in an apartment by myself, working with people who are closer to my parents' age than to mine. It'd be great experience, no question, but....I'd miss out on everything here.

And okay, most people hate the Tri-Cities and would say there's nothing to miss. But I've been having a good time here - going to kickboxing and the Racquet Club with my little brother, hanging out with people from church, enjoying the sunshine, the home-cooking...I've never been away for a summer.

And this is different from taking off for Spain for a semester. I had a good group of friends going into that, and I was going to classes with people my age. It was a whole city of college students.

Port Townsend? What do I know about Port Townsend? I think it's more small-town than the TC.

I was excited about just hanging out with people this summer. I'm an E! How am I supposed to survive 2 1/2 months living by myself?

This happened in the space of 24 hours, from the first e-mail notification to the job offer. I didn't really consult God on any of it. How do I know if this is where I'm supposed to be?

Love always,
molly