Gas

That's what I may be selling this summer.

Specifically, I'm applying for a job at our local Fuel Mart. I don't know if my mother ate something funny this weekend, but she came home from a milk run with an application. She said the manager was "desperate" for help. Sure enough, when I stopped the next morning to get gas for the trip to Cleveland for Mass, there was a sign saying "Urgent! Help needed! Day and evening shifts!" By the way, aren't we so efficient, getting milk at 6 pm on Saturday night and then going at 10:30 the next morning for gas? ;)

It was a Low Mass, by the way. The Choir Master was having a minor operation, and the fill-in happened to be on vacation. Mother started getting restless - we had a "guest" homily from a Maryknoll priest, who suggested that without a donation to the Maryknoll missions we would not have much to say to Jesus at our particular judgment - so we skipped out after the Consecration. I felt bad about that, but it's preferable to having Mom building up steam in the pews. I was particularly disappointed because it was the Benedictine monk celebrating the Mass, and he is an excellent homilist. Alas, this was the weekend in which every parish in the diocese gets a visit from a missionary priest. I only wish it hadn't been a Maryknoll priest. They don't have a very good reputation ... There are certainly some good Maryknollers, of course, and they were wonderful in the old days, but I think nowadays there is a bit more emphasis on providing social services and a lot less on helping along conversions. That's just my impression, anyway.

Well, let's see if I get this Fuel Mart job. I dropped the application off today, and the manager said she would call me back. If she doesn't by the end of the week, I'm calling Kelly Services and signing up with them. There is noooo way I am going to chase after a gas station job, no sirree. Pride is bad, pride is bad, pride is bad, and yet ... Fuel Mart! Ick!