When we first got to Vermont, I spent the week unpacking and relaxing and generally just taking a vacation. Then of course, I remembered that somebody had to pay the exorbitant UHaul bill at the end of the month and I better find myself a job.
I cost more than your rent! Plus gas!
I'd been applying for stuff since last spring, but there's been a drought. Like, not even a "no thank you, thanks for applying" cursory email. I sent some applications out before we came out here this summer to look at apartments. Nothing. As someone who has basically worked at the same place since high school, this was a bit of a shock. Like, I get it, recession, no one is hiring blah blah blah. But I'm not an engineer. I'm not a computer programmer. I just want to work in your shitty little store or your dumb national park or whatever. This is why, when the consignment shop called me back within a day to set up an interview, I pounced. This is why I work six days a week, trying to get while the getting is good. At the same time, however, they encouraged me to take on a second job. The other girls at the store have second jobs. I've kept applying to places, and it's finally starting to rain.
The Co-Op called back. You may be thinking, really Marlene? You went to college. You GRADUATED from college. You speak three languages. You're smart and funny and you want to work in a snooty grocery store? Yes, yes I do. Badly. I can sum up why in one word: benefits. Yes, it's super close to my house (three block commute!), it would nice to get a discount on food, the people seem cool etc. But really, my health insurance runs out at the end of the year and I need to get on that. Plus, paid time off, paid breaks, union stuff. But mostly health insurance.
Here's the thing though: it's crazy hard to get a co-op job. My application was eight pages long with six references. The interview I did last week was only the first. There may be a follow-up. All for an on-call/substitute position as a grocery stocker. The lowest possible rung of the co-op ladder. Which of course, leaves plenty of room to work my way up, but only after they call me at 5:30 AM to cover people's asses for who knows how long. It's going to be a slog.
The chocolate factory called back too. I applied back in July. JULY. But now of course, they need someone part time in Burlington. I wasn't going to call them back, but Ben reminded me that chocolate was one of the reasons we moved out here in the first place. I could be Willy Wonka!
I will get so, so fat. Worth it.
Or at least, the retail version. I don't know yet if they want me to lead tours at the factory or just hawk their wares at the tourists on Church Street. It would be a 45 minute commute each way on the bus. But it would smell so good! Plus, last time I was at the factory, someone had parked a gorgeous All-City bicycle at the rack outside. That's a good sign, right?
Their factory is chocolate brown. Get it?
There's a chocolatier opening in town this fall, and if the commute is too much, I could go to them with my experience, right? Or move to Boston and work with the guy from Rogue Chocolates. You guys know Rogue right? It was started by this 20-something down my street in Minneapolis. The smallest scale chocolate shop in the world. He moved his operation to Massachusetts and I kind of want to be his best friend. Maybe if I get some chocolate expertise he'll let me hang out. We could talk about hotdish and snow emergencies and stuff!
These are Rogue Chocolates. You've seen them around.
This is Colin. He IS Rogue Chocolates. You see my point? Foxy.
We'll see how it all works out. I'm still waiting to hear back from the mentorship program I want to do. I'm hanging on to my application for History Helper docent at the Historical Society. There's a lot of balls in the air, and we'll have to wait and see which ones I can catch.
A Mansard roof! How very New England.
Oh, and if you're not up on your puppet based musical theater allusions, the title of the post refers to this song:
Now it's stuck in your head too.
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