From almost the moment I arrived in Missouri one question has inundated me from nearly everyone: have you had any success? Each time I am taken back; I don't know quite how to answer that.
Rewind to four months ago. School was winding to a close and it was becoming more and more apparent to me that I needed to make more money then I was currently making. Actually, that's painting a rosier picture than reality. I wasn't making any money. I had all but stopped taking substitute jobs because I found the demands of school too much to accomplish both work and study. This concerned me. I had obligations and I needed to move forward in my life. Being single is fun, but only in short distance. I was pulling a marathon. But how could I date if I didn't have enough money to even drive somewhere? The guilt of being 25 and still living at home weighed on me greatly as well.
Trying my best, I made it a matter of fasting, prayer, and dedicated thought. It seemed there was some sort of block. I wasn't getting any inspiration, it seemed every avenue was blockaded. Then it came.
After an institute class a friend of mine made an announcement about a summer sales job. It hit me like a lightening bolt. I felt so strong that I should go. I knew this is what I was supposed to do. Against my complete understanding that this kind of job is brutal, difficult, and mind-twisting I was filled with excitement.
As soon as school was over, I packed up my belongings and hopped on my Yamaha and rode out to St. Louis Missouri. The trip was 17,000 miles of empty space interspersed by extreme yet short moments of breathtaking beauty. I never thought I'd be happy to see Amarillo, Texas, but after the long haul through New Mexico and the Panhandle it was almost more than I could take to see buildings taller than one story. The promise of my initial paycheck of $600 dollars, which I would receive when I arrived, kept me going.
Miraculously I made it to my destination.
As it turns out, I didn't receive payment as I was promised. That money, or at least part of it, was supposed to go toward new tires for my scooter (they were worn out by the time the trip was done). Turns out I would only get it in two halves spread over a month. And by that time I had run out of money completely. Nevertheless I went to work. The days were long, starting at around 12:00 and ending at 9:00. For my first month I only made 4 sales. My roommates did better than me, yet still nowhere near what they expected. It was discouraging.
Through all this hardship a bond was growing. Mike, John, and Clint became like brothers to me. I'd known Mike and John since I was six, and Clint for a couple years yet I found myself closer to them. Vanessa and Ginger, I'd known a long time and it was great to have them out here with all of us. In short, these friendships were strengthened and I have learned something from each of them.
Walking door to door and street to street for eight hours a day gives your mind more time to think than normally allowed. During this time I felt an increased desire to be a better person, but not only better, but more clean and pure. I did not have any sins I had not repented of, but I began to understand that there was more I could do.
In the midst of this personal growth I took a dive. Literally. Into the asphalt off the I64 and the 270 freeways. Wrecking my scooter was an interesting experience to say the least. The result: Road Rash, Broken Glasses, popped front tire.
One effect was that I could not go out and sell. My left leg was so scratched up and scabbed over that I couldn't walk. Imagine having the most intense sunburn covering a good portion of your lower leg. Then take that leg to a cheese grater and go to work! That's about what was going on with my leg. Needless to say, it kept me form walking much. Worse, the doctor did not prescribe any pain medication so sleep became next to impossible.
Thankfully, a friend helped me out and was able to acquire a small prescription for me to help with the pain, which meant I could sleep. My leg is now all but totally healed (still a few scabs, but no big deal). I'm awaiting new glasses in the mail, which should arrive any day now. Soon enough I will be able to go back to work.
The time that I have spent recuperating has been one of learning. I've never received so much love and service from people for so long in my life. It felt downright uncomfortable for me at first. A friend getting me a book so i wouldn't be bored all day. Someone coming over just to make me dinner. Calls from friends and family. It was an outpouring. I'm sued to being the one who tries to serve. Quite frankly, in that role those things can never really be reciprocated in a totally equal way. That's ok. It's not why I do it. But this was a whole different experience to me.
Perhaps now it may seem evident to you why I have a such a hard time with the question of whether I had success out here. It entirely depends on how you measure it. If the measure is the fulfillment of my expectations to begin with, then no, it was failure. I will be far more in the whole and set back because of this summer than I could've imagined. However, it was never my idea to do this. I know that an infinitely knowledgeable and loving Supreme Being wanted this for me. I have learned more about who I am. I have had the privilege of helping people, and of developing relationships I would have missed out on had I stayed home. I treasure those people. I hold those experiences sacred.
Did I have success? I don't know. I know that I am glad I came here. I know that I will be glad to go home. I know life's only going to get tougher for me, but I trust that all will work for my good. I know that I was supposed to be here, but I don't fully comprehend why. There will be a time when I'm old and wrinkly and I'll look back on this time. I'll stop mid-thought and realize, "ahhh, that's why!" Until then, I'm satisfied to know I'm safe and loved.
Sitting all alone in my apartment in Missouri I really have nothing better to do than put down what actually transpired this past week. So many people have seen the picutres of my mutilated self and asked what happened. I really should've jsut blogged it in the first place, but from here on out I'll just refer everyone to this.
I was riding my scooter to the area I was supposed to be selling in. It was Tuesday afternoon. I remember passing Clint and thinking that I'd better stay ahead of him. I started the day brimming with confidence, feeling that it was gunna' be a good day. As I was preparing to merge onto the 270 North from the 64/40 I noticed my front wheel wobbling to an extreme. My handlebars seemed to ave developed a mind of their own and I quickly lost control of my scooter. I determined that my front tire had popped sp I tapped lightly and intermittently on the back brake so I could slow the scooter down and pull over. This had little effect on the sidewinder like rotation of my front half. I recall making a choice; either lay the scooter down on the shulder of the freeway, or risk riding face first into much faster traffic.
After that point I don't remember anything. I must have decided to lay the scooter down because I woke up in a hospital about nine hours later to a nurse informing me she would be pulling my cathater out and that it wouldn't hurt. That was a lie. Soon enough I gained some sort of conciousness and my friends, I realized, were in the room. We exchanged some jokes and I asked them what hapened. I remember some of the details of my stay at the hospital but it's all very blurry.
They wheeled me out and brought me home.
The only injuries I recieved are some severe road rash on my left leg and arms, Then a large burn/rash on my face with a delux cut over my left eye with some stellar stictches. I'm sure this'll become my super villan trademark scar in the future.
Right now I'm jsut trying to heal from the cuts and scrapes so I can go out and work. If I don't work I won't have any money, and it's gunna' take money to pay for the hospital and the trip back home.
Supprisingly little damage was seen on my scooter. It needs new tires and the engine's kill swith went off, so that needs to be fixed, but it looks actually alright.
Anyhow, that's the story thus far. Feel free to send care packages, books, drinks, ointmet or anything my way. Thanks to everyone who's helped out so much already.
