I Come From A Home...

...Where the walls are yellow, and I come from a town where you always hear hello.
And that's where I have always felt most comfortable. Living in a tiny little town where you wave to everyone who passes you by and it should only take you an hour at most to walk the town but it takes almost all day because you stop to talk to everyone. It's a small town, friendly place and you never feel like a stranger where you go and you always feel welcome. It's home for me. Even when I went to school, I went into the 'city' of our area, a half hour away from home. You still see everyone and you haven't really left. All my family was down south, and my friends and school and all the crazy awesome plans I had for summer. I had friends coming home I hadn't seen in years and it was going to be the best summer of my life. I was going to go bridge jumping everyday, get a good job at the local museum, set off fireworks, buy a car, rollerblade everywhere with my friends who were all going to be back.
But, life is a funny thing, and it never turns out how you think.
My life has always never gone as planned really. Not to say it hasn't gone well, because I have a good life, but the last year had been a tumultuous one to say the least and I just wanted an easy summer to coast through and be relaxed and laugh. But I found myself dropping my bags in front of my aunts house in the big city wondering how on earth I ended up here.
Truth be told, The Military Museums was a job I didn't really think or care about when I applied for it, I didn't even know where it was. I thought I botched the interview too and was busy trying to find a new job when they called me. Part of me really wanted to say no to their offer and just find some other job here so I could stay, but I found myself saying yes and moving to the "Big City".
Now, I'm a close knit kind of person. I'm close with my family, close with my friends and my town. I'm used to living in a place where I know everyone and feel safe. I can walk the streets at 1 am and not worry about anything. So moving somewhere where I don't know a single person I walk past and I can't go out after dark in most places, little unnerving. Not to mention when I found out I was working for the Department of Defense, and read my job description finally. I nearly tossed my cookies. I realized I had just signed up for a job with a lot of responsibility, a lot of stress, and I was in a city where I knew 1 person; my aunt who I was staying with, and that was it.
But first day of work came around and I was there. Ready for anything. Or, at least so I thought. I thought I knew something about the military. We have an army, an airforce and a navy right? I'll be good. Uh, no. There's different regiments, battalions, service cors, etc, etc. I was absolutely overcome with all the things I had to learn in a short time. I had no clue what CADPAT was. Wasn't camo just camo? It's green, brown, black and more green, right? I didn't know what a corvette was. It's a car right? And all the things I thought I knew from University classes on World Wars, well they obviously don't cover enough because I found myself saying "What battle?" or "We did what?" or, my favorite "I don't even know what you're talking about." I was working with two girls who already knew what they were doing, they had been working there already. My bosses were smart, but I found myself working with a boss with a personality I had never encountered before. Someone with military background who had high expectations and I was feeling very sink-or-swim. It had to be the most intimidating job I had ever had. Ever. I had no clue what was what, what to do, where anything was and by the end of it I was getting home and flopping on the floor wondering if I was going to make it.
By June 6th, the huge D-Day Celebration, I was almost at wits end. And that day, nearly put me over the edge. So many people, so many questions, such a rush to get everything done and it felt like a very strange organized chaos. Kids would ask me if their uniform was WWII or Cold War and I just had to say "I have no idea, you guess" practically. By the end of the day, I was literally ready to quit my job and move home. My friends had just flown in from where they had been, they were partying back home and I came home to an empty house and just sat down and cried. I had no idea what I was doing. What on earth was I thinking, I could not do this job! I didn't know anything and it was so high stress I felt like unraveling. 
But, I went to work the next day, because my parents didn't raise me a quitter.
And that was probably, the best thing I could have done.
Because you see, though I came to this job knowing nothing. Thinking it would be just another tough summer job and I would leave at the end of it, wave and hug goodbye, get a few facebook friends and promise to visit again. It turned out different than I thought, like everything else this summer.
It was going to end up like that, but life kinda went sideways. My department at school filling and my without a school to go back to. For days afterwards it bothered what I would do. Everyone at the museum was trying to help though, and I was amazed at how much at home I was feeling. My family was far away and only on the phone, giving their love and advice. And I could have felt alone with only phone calls, but I had these crazy people I work with caring too. I was still thinking about leaving back home and staying and living there, the thought of staying in Calgary crossed my mind too, but it's a city where I don't know anyone. I have never felt welcome in a place where I don't feel at home.
I finally realized how wrong on was one day though. I can't even remember what was going on, truth be told. I was getting something from the Collections cages, probably a screwdriver, or ruler, or tape measure or something. As I left I called back saying something like, "I'll be back to bother you later" as a joke when I heard Tucky reply "Don't worry, you're always welcome here."
I work at a place with crazy people, who I honestly adore. Most people think I'm weird for how much I talk about it and love it, but it's hard not to. My contract may be over, and I may get lectured that I need to a find a new job and move on but really, no job is going to measure up to that. I find for once, there's a job I can't seem to leave. Granted, Lydia has told me that if I tried she would tie me up downstairs and never let me go! Hmm, yeah.
Because really, it's like I have an entire other crazy family at the museum (as it one wasn't enough!) But it's okay, because you love them even if you don't know what to do with them half the time.
In one way this summer did turn out how I thought it would.
It was probably one of the bests summers I have ever had.
And it isn't over yet.

"The kids at the museum, they're really like my grandkids..." - Lynne
“In the end, it’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years” – Abraham Lincoln