dear diary.

I was scooping ice when I wanted to quit.

I wanted to take off my badge, walk out the door and never go back.

What am I doing with my life?

But, I didn’t.

Meg, you have a job. You are lucky. You are being paid.

That’s what I kept thinking as I walked back to the counter and got yelled at for the millionth time about how expensive things are.

After the rush, I set up the jalapeno station, and got lost in the moment.

One of my favorite things to do at work is to make the jalapeño cups. It sounds a lot stupider than it actually is. It’s almost as great as bundling, but nothing is as great as sitting on the freezer counting to twenty five over fifty times, with two hundred rubber bands on your wrist, all alone in closet seven. I find the hum of the fridge oddly comforting.

I’ve been working at my job on and off for over two years. They let me come and go as I please and let me get away with things that no one else can.

It’s odd that it’s been that long.

I still remember the first day I walked into Towne Cinemas for my first day of work. The theater that started it all. I ran that place for the two years I worked there. I wore my brown Chuck’s and Refuge jeans.

I was fourteen.

In life sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. We have to put on the black slacks and suck it up. We have to smile and say we are sorry and don’t do refills on the drinks and try not to cry when the angry lady throws a drink on you. All because you ‘have a tone’.

 I’ve had some great times at the theater. Crystal and I sneaking in to watch the Tangled short, all the chats in closet seven, the late nights scrubbing floors, singing ‘Us’ at the top of our lungs upstairs.

I’m teaching primary again, I adore my kids, during sharing time we had an object lesson. She gave us all a pencil that had agency on one end and consequences on the other.

With every choice we are given a consequence. If we choose a good choice, we get a good consequence, and bad and bad.

                If we have a bad consequence, it is our choice to make it better.

I came home from work, tried to cry and get the smell of popcorn out of my hair, and then decided that it doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter that my coworkers made fun of my college.

                My social life.

                                Called me an ‘Old Maid’.

                Asked me what I was naming my next cat.

It doesn’t matter.

I made a choice to be happy. It doesn’t matter that people say stupid things or that you are just a little lonely.

It doesn’t matter that I got kicked out of my housing contract and I almost didn’t have a place to live.

                It doesn’t matter that no one, up until yesterday, wanted to live with me.

It’s going to be okay.

I choose to make the best of this situation. I’ve been learning about myself and who my real friends are. I’m going to be okay. It’s okay that I can basically count my friends on one hand. It’s okay that I’m not in school right now. It’s okay that I have no money and have been turned down for three jobs last week.

I’ve put my trust in Heavenly Father, and His plan is the best plan for me.

Life is what you make it.

Excuse the Hannah Montana reference.