(My 2 seconds of fame start at :48. Why do I even look menacing while standing?)
Then, yet another worker called in (one had came in over an hour late) and my boss rather sadly asked me if I would be willing to stay two hours past my scheduled time off. Naturally I agreed, though still irritated with the day, there was no reason to not help out when I'm capable. Even if I was doing it on 2 hours of sleep.
After the craziness died down, my boss approached me and said, point-blank: "I have a question for you. How would you like to be my assistant manager?"
-fireworks-
I learned some new managery things (concerning operations and the swing of things) and then after I got off I wandered City Creek Center, which I haven't really had a chance to do properly. The sun was down and the Christmas lights were on, and the Temple was glowing. Despite my obvious disdain for religion and the LDS beliefs in general, I really love where I live, and I love the Temple. It's a beautiful piece of architecture and the history connected with it means a lot to me. I suppose that some people might see it as a place of devotion or sanction but to me it symbolizes freedom. I was only allowed to be myself after moving to Utah, getting away from my past and all of the unnecessary hardships I had to endure at the hands of incompetent caretakers. So, thanks Mormons. Your magnificent creation of Utah granite reminds me what really matters in my life.



So, I thought that my night couldn't get any better. Two hours past shift end I went home and found an envelope addressed from the Utah Bureau of Emergency Medical Services and Preparedness. Hoping it was what I thought it was, I sat on the couch and opened the letter and burst into tears when I saw not only the letter, but my EMT Patch, Certification card, and decal.
Despite over three months of gathering old TB tests, X-rays, medical documents, immunizations, forgetting every single fucking thing I learned, failing a written exam once, and dying of fright over my practical...I am DONE.

Despite over three months of gathering old TB tests, X-rays, medical documents, immunizations, forgetting every single fucking thing I learned, failing a written exam once, and dying of fright over my practical...I am DONE.
I am EMT Certified.
This was something I set out to do at the beginning of the year, and I was terrified about it--having not gone to legitimate COLLEGE since I was 18 really had my anxiety levels up.
This was something I set out to do at the beginning of the year, and I was terrified about it--having not gone to legitimate COLLEGE since I was 18 really had my anxiety levels up.
I have low confidence in my ability to succeed, but that doesn't mean I ever stop trying, and today it's paid off in physical, embroidered patch form. My will to help people has gone from a will to a certifiable ability and I couldn't be more shocked and happy. I passed the class with an A, so not only am I certified, I'm certified with a 4.0 GPA.
I know that I may be having some issues about love, but right now? I just got promoted, I just got certified, I have 18 days left until I see my favorite place on earth and my favorite person on earth. Love is not even on my to-do list. I for once actually feel proud of myself, both for succeeding at my goal and doing such a good job that within two weeks of hire my manager trusts me to be second-in-command. A huge thank you to everyone who has supported me through this school and EMT thing. It wasn't easy being candid about my feelings before and during all of this but now I can appreciate even more the voices who said not to give up or be afraid.
So, thank you. I will be extra careful to not break your ribs when performing CPR. Actually I won't. But you'll thank me once you live. Assuming you do. Hopefully. I'm not a miracle worker.