Its official
Trembling my hands managed to work my keys, my hunks of blazing hot metal into the keyhole of my apartment. I wedged the door open with the small amount of strength I had left. I stepped inside, careful to not step onto my shoelaces that had come undone a few blocks back... I didn't stop for them then or now, I couldn't imagine stopping for anything in this heat.
The inside of my apartment wasn't much better than outside, but I felt comforted knowing I was home. An army of sweat drops marched down my back, neck, and forehead. I stepped through my house like a fly in molasses. Creeping towards the refrigerator I stopped and thought of my journey.
It began about an hour ago, hell you could say it began a year ago, more if you wanted to... and it climaxed here as I sit in my underwear drinking down my first few gulps of success.
I began my trek to city hall an hour ago, I dressed in casual but "nice" clothing not knowing who I would be meeting up with. I put on my nicest pair of jean pants, they make my butt look huge, but they are the only ones I have without holes or frays or paint smudges, a bright red tank top, and a darker red button up shirt over. Underneath I prayed my polka-dotted underwear would give me the courage to joke and be witty and most importantly be myself... or at least someone they would like enough to give a business license too...
I gathered up my applications, plans, proof of this and that and put it in a binder. I wasn't sure what they would ask for so I thought to take everything. I put the binder in a bag and then took it out, deciding I would be find carrying it myself. I grabbed my purse and refilled the cat's water bowls. She meowed in protest as I headed for the door.
As soon as my key locked the door a heat wave sucked me in. The soles of my shoes groaned as the side walk tried to glue them in place. I tried my best to zig zag across the back streets just to drink in all the possible shade... but it didn't help. The shade was suffocating and the sun was too hot to breathe. Dizzy I walked passing air conditioned SUVs and topless convertibles.
I stopped at the park outside city hall and found a shady bench. I was attempting to coax myself into not sweating while trying to play off to the surrounding high-schoolers and toddlers that I was browsing through something terribly interesting in my binder.
I felt the first few drops of sweat hit the small of my back. Horrified I grabbed the mirror from my purse and positioned it to look at my back without being obvious. Fortunately it hadn't soaked through.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Exhale.
I made my way to city hall on shaky legs. I had long assumed that they would deny me. I was prepared for them to laugh and spit at me. As I placed my hand on the door knob I imagined all my worst fears and hallucinations lay right beyond the tinted glass.
It took a while to open that door.
I stepped inside expecting to be drowned in air conditioning, but there wasn't much more than a fan here and there. I made my way to the business area of city hall, first floor, left then right, I knew the route by heart but I still stopped and read the directory.... twice.
I approached the counter. There was a man on the phone talking to someone about toilet tank problems and... no one else.
"Can I help you?" a blond woman popped up from underneath the counter. I imagined a little factory below the counter making mechanical people who can "help you." I imagined each one finishing production just at the right time, just when someone stepped up to the counter needing help.
She was the same woman that had helped me earlier though. I explained I was here to turn in my applications. We went through the motions. I kept in step as she danced me through business talk, fiscal years, notifications, this and that. I handed her papers and money. I signed here, but not there. I sucked in my breath as she reviewed everything. I contemplated to myself if I had the courage to ask how long it would take. I contemplated whether I really wanted to know.
She interupted my thoughts with the most anti-climactic phrase I have heard yet. In a simple monotone she said, "As of today you are licensed."
It was simple, it was huge, she didn't smile, she didn't say congratulations, she just stared back with her pale blue eyes and puffy pink cheeks.
"Great," I said. "Really great."
I began slowly backing away from the counter expecting at any moment she would stop me and hand me a framed license with gold etching. I expected her to laugh and say just kidding it will take a month. I expected to trip over my own clumsiness and have her revoke the license for being a danger to myself.
I stepped out into the heat and couldn't figure out what to do. It was too easy. It wasn't worth celebrating.... at the same time it was Huge. It was official. I had to tell someone.
I called Jon first, of course, the phone rang and rang until his voice mail answered. Deflated I hung up. Called my dad, mom, brother, sister, and had the same thing happen. I began questioning the remainder of my contacts "Well he wouldn't care... she wouldn't either..."
I walked home consumed by heat, forcing myself to smile because this was big. Jon and my father eventually called back. I explained to them that Nutriful is now an official business and I can now operate from my home. They were both happy, maybe happier than I was.
I hung up each call slipping deeper into a daze. I was happy, I was bubbling over, but there was something else there, something apathetic, something that didn't believe any of that had actually happened. I felt a bit like a liar for telling them I was licensed. Because it wasn't real to me.
I walked very close to the scary house with the big dog, usually I walk in the street because the disgustingly huge horse-dog always barks and jumps at the fence as I go by. He wasn't there.
My shoe came undone somewhere in there and I spent a good amount of effort avoiding stepping on it. Childhood fear perhaps, but I swore if I stepped on it my arm or leg or tooth would instantly break.
The last steps up to my apartment were the hardest, they always are. I was a sweaty mess. My casually professional looking bun had begun to come undone and sweat splattered hair clung to my chin and shoulders, my shirt clung to my back, my jeans roasted my legs.
Trembling my hands managed to work my keys, my hunks of blazing hot metal into the keyhole of my apartment. I wedged the door open with the small amount of strength I had left. I stepped inside, careful to not step onto my shoelaces that had come undone a few blocks back... I didn't stop for them then or now, I couldn't imagine stopping for anything in this heat.
The inside of my apartment wasn't much better than outside, but I felt comforted knowing I was home. An army of sweat drops marched down my back, neck, and forehead. I stepped through my house like a fly in molasses.
IT WAS OVER.
And at the same time, it was just beginning. I sipped water while thinking about the words my father said: Now comes the hard part.
I can imagine myself all day long going up to people and selling myself. I can imagine putting up flyers and leaving brochures. I can imagine handing out business cards or reading an ad I placed in the paper... but I never imagined any of those actions would actually come to pass.
Kind of like the night before prom. I laid in bed, my head covered in uncomfortable curlers knowing surely I would be dead the next morning. Prom would Never happen for me because big events don't happen to me. My life is dull and depressing and nothing interesting ever happens.
The next morning was a mess of pomade and eye liner, corsets and inability to walk in heels. The dance was dull. I stepped out on the dance floor briefly and was afraid to eat anything. We went bowling. I enjoyed that.
The difference between then and now is that I believe I will wake up tomorrow. I just don't know how I will react to my life moving around me. I believe big things will happen to me. I just want to be able to handle it. I want to trust myself to handle it.
The inside of my apartment wasn't much better than outside, but I felt comforted knowing I was home. An army of sweat drops marched down my back, neck, and forehead. I stepped through my house like a fly in molasses. Creeping towards the refrigerator I stopped and thought of my journey.
It began about an hour ago, hell you could say it began a year ago, more if you wanted to... and it climaxed here as I sit in my underwear drinking down my first few gulps of success.
I began my trek to city hall an hour ago, I dressed in casual but "nice" clothing not knowing who I would be meeting up with. I put on my nicest pair of jean pants, they make my butt look huge, but they are the only ones I have without holes or frays or paint smudges, a bright red tank top, and a darker red button up shirt over. Underneath I prayed my polka-dotted underwear would give me the courage to joke and be witty and most importantly be myself... or at least someone they would like enough to give a business license too...
I gathered up my applications, plans, proof of this and that and put it in a binder. I wasn't sure what they would ask for so I thought to take everything. I put the binder in a bag and then took it out, deciding I would be find carrying it myself. I grabbed my purse and refilled the cat's water bowls. She meowed in protest as I headed for the door.
As soon as my key locked the door a heat wave sucked me in. The soles of my shoes groaned as the side walk tried to glue them in place. I tried my best to zig zag across the back streets just to drink in all the possible shade... but it didn't help. The shade was suffocating and the sun was too hot to breathe. Dizzy I walked passing air conditioned SUVs and topless convertibles.
I stopped at the park outside city hall and found a shady bench. I was attempting to coax myself into not sweating while trying to play off to the surrounding high-schoolers and toddlers that I was browsing through something terribly interesting in my binder.
I felt the first few drops of sweat hit the small of my back. Horrified I grabbed the mirror from my purse and positioned it to look at my back without being obvious. Fortunately it hadn't soaked through.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Left.
Right.
Left.
Exhale.
I made my way to city hall on shaky legs. I had long assumed that they would deny me. I was prepared for them to laugh and spit at me. As I placed my hand on the door knob I imagined all my worst fears and hallucinations lay right beyond the tinted glass.
It took a while to open that door.
I stepped inside expecting to be drowned in air conditioning, but there wasn't much more than a fan here and there. I made my way to the business area of city hall, first floor, left then right, I knew the route by heart but I still stopped and read the directory.... twice.
I approached the counter. There was a man on the phone talking to someone about toilet tank problems and... no one else.
"Can I help you?" a blond woman popped up from underneath the counter. I imagined a little factory below the counter making mechanical people who can "help you." I imagined each one finishing production just at the right time, just when someone stepped up to the counter needing help.
She was the same woman that had helped me earlier though. I explained I was here to turn in my applications. We went through the motions. I kept in step as she danced me through business talk, fiscal years, notifications, this and that. I handed her papers and money. I signed here, but not there. I sucked in my breath as she reviewed everything. I contemplated to myself if I had the courage to ask how long it would take. I contemplated whether I really wanted to know.
She interupted my thoughts with the most anti-climactic phrase I have heard yet. In a simple monotone she said, "As of today you are licensed."
It was simple, it was huge, she didn't smile, she didn't say congratulations, she just stared back with her pale blue eyes and puffy pink cheeks.
"Great," I said. "Really great."
I began slowly backing away from the counter expecting at any moment she would stop me and hand me a framed license with gold etching. I expected her to laugh and say just kidding it will take a month. I expected to trip over my own clumsiness and have her revoke the license for being a danger to myself.
I stepped out into the heat and couldn't figure out what to do. It was too easy. It wasn't worth celebrating.... at the same time it was Huge. It was official. I had to tell someone.
I called Jon first, of course, the phone rang and rang until his voice mail answered. Deflated I hung up. Called my dad, mom, brother, sister, and had the same thing happen. I began questioning the remainder of my contacts "Well he wouldn't care... she wouldn't either..."
I walked home consumed by heat, forcing myself to smile because this was big. Jon and my father eventually called back. I explained to them that Nutriful is now an official business and I can now operate from my home. They were both happy, maybe happier than I was.
I hung up each call slipping deeper into a daze. I was happy, I was bubbling over, but there was something else there, something apathetic, something that didn't believe any of that had actually happened. I felt a bit like a liar for telling them I was licensed. Because it wasn't real to me.
I walked very close to the scary house with the big dog, usually I walk in the street because the disgustingly huge horse-dog always barks and jumps at the fence as I go by. He wasn't there.
My shoe came undone somewhere in there and I spent a good amount of effort avoiding stepping on it. Childhood fear perhaps, but I swore if I stepped on it my arm or leg or tooth would instantly break.
The last steps up to my apartment were the hardest, they always are. I was a sweaty mess. My casually professional looking bun had begun to come undone and sweat splattered hair clung to my chin and shoulders, my shirt clung to my back, my jeans roasted my legs.
Trembling my hands managed to work my keys, my hunks of blazing hot metal into the keyhole of my apartment. I wedged the door open with the small amount of strength I had left. I stepped inside, careful to not step onto my shoelaces that had come undone a few blocks back... I didn't stop for them then or now, I couldn't imagine stopping for anything in this heat.
The inside of my apartment wasn't much better than outside, but I felt comforted knowing I was home. An army of sweat drops marched down my back, neck, and forehead. I stepped through my house like a fly in molasses.
IT WAS OVER.
And at the same time, it was just beginning. I sipped water while thinking about the words my father said: Now comes the hard part.
I can imagine myself all day long going up to people and selling myself. I can imagine putting up flyers and leaving brochures. I can imagine handing out business cards or reading an ad I placed in the paper... but I never imagined any of those actions would actually come to pass.
Kind of like the night before prom. I laid in bed, my head covered in uncomfortable curlers knowing surely I would be dead the next morning. Prom would Never happen for me because big events don't happen to me. My life is dull and depressing and nothing interesting ever happens.
The next morning was a mess of pomade and eye liner, corsets and inability to walk in heels. The dance was dull. I stepped out on the dance floor briefly and was afraid to eat anything. We went bowling. I enjoyed that.
The difference between then and now is that I believe I will wake up tomorrow. I just don't know how I will react to my life moving around me. I believe big things will happen to me. I just want to be able to handle it. I want to trust myself to handle it.