Maybe it’s the constant rain and gloom since I began my Post-Dex life. Maybe a former boss was right that I lack self confidence. Whatever the reason, nagging doubt has been creeping in. One of my freelance possibilities fizzled out last week, another lead hasn’t panned out. Did I do the right thing? I’m glad to be gone from Dex, because the job was killing me. Am I going to be able to bring in enough money to float the boat without finding another full time job? And if that becomes necessary, would I even be able to find one? But all of these I can chalk up to natural anxiety for a person in my position. I have some very specific doubts about my immediate future.

Remember the job at Caribou? I’m going in for an interview today. It sounds like it’s a mere formality and the manager wants to hire me. I’m still a little curious how she came to the conclusion I’d be a good hire. She says she’s talked to me enough, but I can’t remember much conversation other than “good morning” and “have a nice day,” and that’s usually at 6:50 am when I’m not exactly at my cheerful best, plus I’m the kind of person that, in a line of people waiting for service, tries to make the transaction as quick and simple as possible out of consideration for others. I try not to strike up any conversation with the person behind the counter, other than the occasional lame witticisms.  I’m OK with that though, actually I’m kind of flattered, I never really thought anyone there even noticed me.

But over the weekend I started having some serious, specific doubts about being able to function as a barista. One, my knees. I’m not entirely sure I can be on my feet for even four hours. I figure that’s worth a try though, good shoes and maybe my knee braces might be enough support to keep the pain to a minimum.

Secondly, I can’t hear. Yesterday I went to get coffee at the store in my neighborhood, and the woman who gave me Beck’s drink asked me,”mghphf grgh gorfrth?”  “I’m sorry.” “mghphf grahfuf hlmaf?” “excuse me?” “flemoof garfph mhlorfr?” “I’m sorry, my hearing is really bad.” “DO YOU NEED A CUP CARRIER?” “No thank you.” My hearing sucks and it even sucks more when there’s background noise, like in a busy coffee shop. A service worker can hardly demand that a customer, “SPEAK UP PLEASE!” This may be the motivation I need to get a hearing aid, but that won’t happen before I would start work. Plus that would mean I would lose my ongoing debate with Beck as to who’s more deaf and who should get a hearing aid first.

And thirdly, an most importantly, would I be able to stifle my outrageous flatulence behind the counter for four hours. They might have to take the “Breath” signs down? I don’t even think that the aroma of brewing coffee would overcome the stench that seeps out of me on occasion. Sometimes they’re such silent little puffs that I don’t even notice what I’ve done until the people around me are turning green and gasping for breath. And other times a sudden movement will rip one off that sounds like someone is kick starting a small bore motorcycle. This could have a chilling effect on retail business. Maybe I can get some of that fart absorbing underwear.

I am going to the interview today, I might bring up the hearing thing, but I don’t think I’ll discuss the gas issue. What to do, what to do?