CHAPTER 3

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I just finished my job interview for this crazy fancy restaurant just 2 minutes away from my apartment, I will be so happy if I get this job, I can start saving so I can achieve things I want in life because don't me wrong I'm blessed I could move out and get good college grades and all but I've always wanted more in life like my own shop and being known and not just living in Brighton.. so having this job will be one step further from getting that. baby steps I guess.

Later on after my interview I go home and wait, the company said they would ring me later today to see if I got it, I'm not sure if I have though. we will have to wait and see.

I cook my self lasagna, a food I always cook when I'm stressed, a comfort food I guess? I snuggle up on the sofa, by myself, with my phone in front of me on the sofa, just starring at it, waiting for a phone call from the restaurant. call me obsessed but I really wanted this job and was so anxious so I just sat there waiting for it to ring.. for about 15 minutes. until it rang, I shot up from my seat, I scared my self I think and I answered it. I waited for at least 2 minutes well it felt like 3 hours for the lady to get all the 'hello Miss Johnson' rubbish out the way, I was eager to know if I got it or not. And then she said 'I'm happy to tell you, that you got the job!' I could of cried, maybe I was being a bit dramatic but it was all I ever wanted. I thanked the lady over and over again, I think she was tired of me from that point and then she gave me all the details on when is my starting day and everything, I'm glad I could just start because all people that applied got shown what to do as a waitress when the interview was. even if they didn't get the job for some reason?

after I got over me getting the job, kind of, I just sat and relaxed still taking in everything. I know that it is just a waitressing job and not nothing to do with cooking but at least it was something? I was just super happy I could start saving and build for the life I had ahead of me.

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