And not in a good way.
I knew when I took on this job that Billy Barker Days was the biggest festival of the year. I also knew that starting the job two weeks before Billy Barker Days was going to be a trial by fire.
I didn’t know that Billy Barker Days would break me.
Okay, so I cried. I was overwhelmed, underprepared and most importantly, hot. SO HOT. 12 hour days spent climbing ladders, plugging in extension cords, dealing with angry vendors and walking miles up and down sun baked city blocks broke me. Somewhere between my realization that I don’t own a single pair of shorts and my third sunburn, I broke down and called my momma in tears.
Sometimes you just have to call your momma.
A lot of things slammed together at once. Homesickness, heat rash (on my face, you crazy people), Colin being gone with work, overwhelming job, etc. So I cried.
I teared up regularly throughout the weekend. When Colin’s office manager told me everything was going to be ok. When my boss told me I looked tired. When the damned bagpipers went by at the parade. When I grabbed someone’s wayward child who wandered into an intersection. When that child offered me his popcorn. I was a waterfall of tears.
Today I had a good day. It was my first full day on my own with the job, and it went well. I yelled at security guards, charmed the cranky music guy into cracking a smile, and survived being hit on by a group of carneys. Tomorrow is the last day (thank you sweet mother of Billy Barker). After this, I’ll be pretty much on my own with my job, free as a bird having survived the litmus test of Quesnel: Billy Barker Days.