Full Time...

Before heading into work today I stopped by Lovely to drop off earrings I made for a girl who works there. She complimented a pair I had on yesterday morning and asked me to make her some that were similar. I was off yesterday and happily constructed a pair that I thought would suit her. When I walked in she just so happened to be wearing colors that matched them. It made me so happy to do this for her that I wonder why I don’t do it more often…
After sucking down an Americano at Cipollina, I peel my ass off the stool I am sitting on and push my arms through my coat, gather my 8,000 bags, and I head into our Wicker Park salon. I’m opening today, working one of my favorite shifts, but my head is full of anxiety. This is becoming the norm for me lately. Each week I can’t wait for Sunday to roll around so I can hurry up to Evanston and cut some hair. It’s almost time for me to earn my second day on the floor. It can’t get here fast enough.
“Hi!” I beam to Brian who is seating behind the front desk, hanging up the phone.
“How’s it going?” he asks.
“Good. You?”
He nods. “Good.”
“May I clock in?” I ask him.
“Of course.”
I reach over him, press the appropriate buttons, thank him and head to the break room. This is usually the extent of our conversations unless I need something for a stylist or colorist.
I hang my coat up, put my bags down and place my lunch in the ‘fridge. Reaching into my purse I pull my phone out and text my friend Derek about my issues with making my sparklies. His words always help make sense of things.
“Why am I so stressed about something I used to love so much?!”
I put the phone back and start my work day. I take the coffee up front, start laundry, check the bathrooms to see if they need to be restocked, and see they don’t. I fold towels then go see if Derek has responded.
Yup! His words are displayed across my little screen.
“Sounds like you might wanna judge yourself based solely on your own sense of person intent, effort and love. Not outside sources.”
Of course he’s right. I’ve lived my whole life that way. Bouncing from one thing to the next mostly because its what I think you want from me. Doing that is easier half the time than dong what I need to do for myself. I am most comfortable in your space, rarely in my own.
I go back out to the floor after thanking Derek and pull out some foil to tear. God knows how many sheets of this stuff I’ve torn along with my co-workers for the colorists to us to highlight their clients.
I’m still feeling unsettled. There is a constant buzz of irritation bubbling under my skin. I want more coffee. Not because I need to wake up but because I simply want to taste it. I make tea instead and get back to the foil. I then think about what I could eat and go to the break room. I pick up my phone and text a friend from OA and walk back out to the foil. I think about laundry, and check it. Foil. I look at the schedule to see when the next assistant is coming in. It’s Seven and she’ll be here at twelve. Foil.
The colorists begin coming in and starting their clients.
“Hey Meliss.” Stephanie smiles at me while reaching for color developer. “How are you?”
“Good. How are you?” I smile back at her.
“Good! How was your date?”
“Eh…ok. I spent three hours listening while he talked my ear off.” I rolled my eyes. The boy and I met at a coffee shop not too far from work a couple of days ago. This is my first date since Charlie and well, I’d rather be alone than subject myself to any more of that. I’m starting to see I have a choice in the matter, hence the whole project of figuring out what it is I want out of life instead of letting someone else choose for me, or hitching a ride on someone else’s life path.
“On to the next one!” she exclaims before rushing away to start her client. Steph is like a tornado sometimes, breezing from one thing to the next. I smile to myself and get back to the foil.
“Melissa, Cyndi’s on line one for you.” Nyssa, another receptionist appears out of no where, marking something on a day sheet for Stephanie.
“Really? May I take it in the office?” I ask.
“Yup!” she darts away.
I step through the tiny office and sit down reaching for the phone.
“Cyndi?” My eyes focus on a heart that is drawn on a huge calendar on the desk. I stare at it.
“Yes…how are you?” I hear her smile.
“Good, how are you?
“Good. I’m calling to tell you that today is your lucky day.”
“Oh really.” I laugh.
...I'm standing on a train platform, cell phone pressed to my ear exclaiming to Rob that my interview went well, I love Art and Science and they want me back for another interview in April.
“We were discussing you in our managers meeting this morning and we feel that…”
...“Just go,” Rob instructed. “have fun, be yourself and they’ll hire you on the spot.”
“…great progress…” Cyndi continues.
...“I’m sorry, I’m just scared that you’re going to leave me. I feel that I can’t have both you and Chicago.” I say to Rob.
“We want to start your full time…”
...“Don’t worry. I’m right here.” he reminded me.
“February second.”
...“I have some bad news.’ My dads voice cracked in my ear. “Rob’s been in an accident. He’s dead.”
My head begins to swim. I made it. I finished. Its over. Assisting is ending. Right now. “Really?” I exclaim.
“Uh huh. Now you know that we give the assistants a week off in between ending assisting and starting full time so you’ll have time to rest your hands before you start.”
Tears flood my eyes and stream down my face so fast I can’t see. I’m working hard not to sob openly in her ear. “You’ve just made my entire…everything.”
There will be no more racing around like a madwoman taking care of everyone else’s clients. I’ll have my own. No more washing dishes and folding towels but looking after a station again. I won’t be scrambling to find models for class anymore unless I choose to. Maybe my hands will actually heal. I can’t freakin’ believe it! Done and done!
Cyndi and I stay on the phone a little while longer to figure out my schedule. She says she’ll call me later to give me exact days and times I’ll need to be there. As I’m thanking her for the millionth time before hanging up the phone, my assistant manager Susan walks through the door.
“Is that Cyndi or Amy?” she asks, putting her purse down.
“Cyndi!” I jump up from the chair and throw my arms around her.
“Congratulations!” she laughs and I’m crying again.
I’m so happy!” I whisper and wipe my face, giggling at my rather open display of emotion.
“Let it out! I like happy tears!”
I exhale. What I wouldn’t give right now to pick up the phone and call Rob right now…
Nyssa appears again and needs Susan. I squeeze out of the office and let all of this sink in. I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t even know if I want to share it yet. I want to hold on to it for a few minutes and revel in it by myself. I go to the bathroom and cry so hard my eyes might explode. It’s like everything I’ve kept in the past year is pouring out of me. I suddenly feel free to have my feelings back. I don’t have to wear a mask. I don’t have to pretend. I didn’t even know I was until right this minute.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” I say over and over in my head to Rob. I still wish I could say it to his face. I wish I could squeeze him and tell him that I made it! Of course my outstretched hands grasp nothing. I’m not even sure I could have done this if he were still here. I truly believe it was him breathing life into my lungs when things got tough. He caught me when I was falling head first into my icky situational depressions. He pushed me on to the trains that took me into work every day. He never left my side. It was me who started to wander off. I closed my eyes, put my fingers in my ears, shutting out any love to listen to my own self deprecating thoughts.
I fix my face quickly, and emerge from the bathroom before calling my friend Christine and yet again choking out the words on her voicemail that I’m done!!! I send out mass text messages and squeal to Seven and Katie as they clock in. My head is no where on this planet. It’s like this huge nasty cloud has been lifted and I’m suddenly able to breathe. I suddenly feel I have permission to let go a little and enjoy…well, everything now. My days off are going to be set, my hours will be as well which is more of a relief than I had anticipated.
I think about Charlie. To call, or not to call? He was with me the most during all this. I do a shampoo and a blowdry before deciding to call him.
“I have something amazing to tell you!” I exclaim once he picks up. I’m walking toward Starbucks and the air has suddenly left my lungs.
“Lay it on me!”
The emotion drains from me entirely as I hear myself say “My manager just called! I’ve been promoted!” What is this? Why am I not filled with puppies, rainbows and little birds like I was seconds before I dialed his number?
“That’s awesome! Congratulations!”
“I’m so happy!” I don’t believe myself right now. What is happening? A little voice in my head tells me to get off the phone. I cross the street and stand outside Starbucks’ door, still talking. The voice gets louder and I get a little panicky, my left hand starting to burn and itch. Ok ok, I tell it. I’m getting off…
Seconds later I’ve hung up and ordered another Americano scraping that dull, aching numbness off my brain and heading back into the salon.
I shampoo client after client, emotion still running too high to really talk much. When things calm down I call mom and tell her about this morning.
“That’s wonderful!” I hear her smile.
There is a part of me that hates the fact I can’t control my tears right now. As happy as I am I’m embarrassed at such a display.
“I can’t believe it’s finally done.” I choke. I can’t say anything else, cant stop crying.
“Are you coming home at all during your week off?”
“Oh I didn’t think about that! Yes! I can’t stay long but yes. Maybe Tuesday?”
“Ok, I’ll let Daddy know then.”
Work ends late but I’m ok with that. I walk home still trying to let everything sink in. This is the first accomplishment I’ve achieved that I feel I actually deserve. I’ve been proud of other things but this is something entirely different. I feel I’ve worked hard and have gotten to a place where I wanted to be. I absolutely cannot wait to start the next phase of life here.