I’m called ‘flaca’ at my new job

I have a new job.  How I got this job, I don’t know.

The people I work with are, for the most part, lifers.  This is their profession, their calling, and they are amazing at what they do.

I am not discouraged when they make twice as much as I do.  I have to remind myself that yesterday was my second day, and that this is not my profession.  I am learning a lot.  I’m adjusting to the culture and the pace and the clientele.

Working with Ecuadorians and Mexicans is improving my Spanish, and I’m getting respect for speaking Spanish from the monolingual staff, along with everyone asking me where I’m from because speaking another language makes me look more exotic.  So if I get nothing else out of this job, at least I will have been working toward one of my life goals of being fluent in Spanish.  All of these things are good, but money is what I need right now.

So two days a week I’m modeling for paintings and drawings.  And I’m continuing to look for a library job.  I’m using my day off to make art, write, fantasize about a trip or move to Barcelona, and play my violin.



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