carry-out.

One day last week, I had a job. I peeled, de-cored, sliced and mashed about forty avocados. I cleaned dirty drawers and blended smoothies. I also portioned, weighed, and bagged chunks of pre-cooked chicken. By the end of the day, I was actually allowed to place the pre-arranged sandwiches on the panini grill, and set the timer. The highlight of my day, up to the point when I began to make Marilynn her smoothie, had been my walk to work. 

Marilynn's order was a carry-out, which means, basically, that she needed someone to...carry it out. I abruptly volunteered. She was apprehensive, and felt a little guilty, considering how busy we were, asking, "are you sure it's OK?". I assured her that I was the new girl, and quite dispensable, given the fact that up to this point, I was really only trusted with the smoothies.  She was grateful, and gracious, and though the walk to her car only took a few minutes, its details will remain with me indefinitely. We talked about the weather, and about how nice it was outside, and about her artificial hip, and how the rain always makes it just a little more painful. I told her about my rainy but enjoyable walk to work, and where I live. She was surprised by my walk, and its distance, so I told her about where I had just come from, and about how walking had taken me so many places over the past two months. She glanced at me with knowing eyes, and said, "so it's just a part of you right now"... I paused.

Yes. That's it, exactly.

The job was a blip on the radar. I was feeling desperate, and in need of employment. Walking to work was the plus, the draw, the decision maker. I hadn't put much thought into the actual work, or how the environment would differ from the one I had just left. When the boss was across from me offering me a position and a paycheck, I didn't acknowledge the possibility that the environment I was walking into could be quite torturous in comparison to the glorious challenges that had so recently come to an end.

I walked home, munching on a vegetable hummus pita, and I cried. 

I was thankful for Marilynn, and her effortless ability to articulate something that was resting at my core, in a way that even I had not been able to do. I was thankful that someone got it.  And then I decided that Wednesday was the last day I would walk to that job, and also that really, if walking is a part of me right now, I can walk any time I want, but that it shouldn't be the only reason I would continue to work somewhere that would make most every other hour of my work day miserable. 

Thursday, I drove the walking route and returned my shirt. Today, I am still looking for a job, and walking.