Soo…I used to be a waitress.

My first legitimate, tax paying job was at 15, as a waitress at the restaurant Western Sizzlin’. Waiting tables with my sister and two other friends, we were the youngest servers in the building by probably 40 years…my career was short-lived, however, as I quickly realized that no amount of slip-proof sneakers would stop me from tripping, bumping into things, and spilling large, cold pitchers of liquids onto customers. I am an incurable klutz. 

A decade and another continent later, I regret to report that things have not improved. I think that I maybe should have warned the family that I am living with that it would have been a good idea to childproof their home in preparation of my arrival.

A story: Saturday I was helping the wonderful woman that I live with, Sophie, clean the house. In the process of dusting, I just so happened to knock over a nice blue vase, cracking a portion of the corner. The damage was not the worst breakage I’ve ever induced, and so in between apologies I promised to glue it back together. While I was transporting the broken pieces to my room for “safe keeping”, I bumped into the wall, causing me to drop the small fragments once again onto the ground, this time shattering them. My bad. I can’t tell you how many times I apologized, but Sophie’s response was this:

“It’s alright, Mary. People are perishing. These are just ornaments. They don’t matter.” I would like to adopt this attitude about more things in my life…

(As a side note, we went that same night to hear some local musicians play, at which point I proceeded to knock over a full glass of wine, smashing the glass to bits…sorry, Windhoek Warehouse.)