Irony at its finest

So, like any unemployed adult in this world, I had slipped into what you may call “lazy bored muchie eating slug” I needed a job, and I needed it now. So I stepped out into the sunshine one day, plastered on a cute smile and mixed in some bubbly attitude, and started handing out resumes. 

I had done this many times before, with no luck. Coming form a small town, you didn’t really need a resume, since your employer probably knew your family, was a witness to you growing up, and didn’t need a piece of paper to tell them your qualities and skills. 

But in the big city, 

it is a totally different jungle…

At home I was a landscaper, janitor, and goatherd- none of those jobs required a resume. 

Here, retail experience and working with people was more important as to whether you know what was chickweed and what was freshly sprouted carrots. 

You could say many of the places I handed a resume too, I walked out of there knowing that they would probably chuckle to themselves; picture me frolicking with goats as if I lived in the alps, and toss my resume in the trash. 

My confidence deflated quick, until my mom came for a visit. 

I believe my mom and I have a very special relationship, even though there is the age difference, the personality difference, and the fact that she is my mom, we have built a beautiful friendship. I trust her advice and when she thinks something might be worth trying- I believe her. 

So when she bought some bread at Cob’s Bread, and was pleased by the service and began to chat to the manager about gluten free bread (for me) somehow she got on the topic of employment. Being a bakery, I decided to leave my mom with the breads and goodies to go look at socks. 

I suffer from something called Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I wish it had more of a ring to it, but it doesn’t. I can’t even jazz up the thing… but anyways having IBS means that I can’t eat a lot of things. 

Dairy, Gluten, Processed meat, Processed anything really, Coffee, Carbonated drinks, the list goes on. 

So when mom makes a stop at a bakery, I usually try not to torture myself and go focus on something else.

That day it was socks to be exact. 

So when mom came over to me, and said “I think you should drop off your resume at Cob’s” I was puzzled. But once I got thinking about it, the idea became more and more reasonable. 

Before being diagnosed, I had always wanted to work in a bakery, the smells, the tastes, the decorating, I thought that would be a fun job. 

After the diagnosis, I kept on baking, even though I couldn’t eat the majority of the sweets and the dream to work in a bakery soon faded to the back of my mind. I had a holiday in Kamloops to think it over, and when I got back I handed my resume to the manager. Talking to her myself I picked up on the vibe my mom must have felt. Happy, family oriented, and hard working. 

The interview went well, I didn’t feel like I had to pretend to be someone else, and I was happy to talk about  my volunteer work in my hometown. By the end of the interview, I was hired. 

After a little tour, meeting the staff, I was given a loaf of bread. 

And then it hit me. 

I am working in a bakery that specializes in breads. 

I will be up to my elbows in the very things that make me sick to my stomach if digested and bed ridden for hours at a time. 

I had to laugh at myself, of course I would be hired at a bakery… So in celebration of my weirdness I walked to the florist shop ( a place where I would actually know what I’d be doing) and bought myself a big bouquet of sunflowers. 

Sitting on the bus I let my mind unravel from the anxiety I had pre-interveiw… 

I took a peek at the bread sitting harmlessly in its own little bag, 

maybe it is a good thing to be working a bakery, 

I won’t be tempted to eat everything, it will be like selling alarm clocks, or socks, 

or dog jackets… I will learn about the qualities and what it has to offer and then pitch my sale to the customer. 

And I still will be able to fit my uniform by the end of the month. 

So even though I am living a life of ironic events, 

there always is a bright side to every situation. 

even if it means I am surrounded by cinnamon buns with cream cheese icing, cranberry and custard danishes and spinach and feta croissants.

xx