So, tired of sending resumes into the job black hole, aka internet, I decide a few weeks back to drop one off – in person – at my favorite neighborhood restaurant.   Encouraged by two friends who work there, I reluctantly went in and spoke to the General Manager.   Reluctant because this is one of Atlanta’s best restaurants, one at which I was a regular customer, one to which I took clients, and friends, and family.  One in which I was reluctant to work due to my own pride.  Pride of having an associate or friend see me wait tables (oh the shame, the horror!  more on my own moronic behavior later….).

Tonight, my first night of training, at one point I was setting a table and as I was arranging the napkins, forks, knives and bread plates, I muttered “I am so damn happy right about now.”  Happy to be working.  But more than that, happy to be picking up on dreams that I had let fall to the ground.


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