Rooted, I used to think.

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Tuesday, Apr. 29, 2008 @ 7:06 pm

I had a job interview today.

I spent the better part of the morning changing outfits. Collared shirt into sweater, pants into skirts, browns into blacks. Hair up, hair down. Just what am I supposed to wear to a job interview at the dump? I mean: landfill.

It's beautiful out there, in the heart of the Saanich farmlands, the Hartland. A bright quarry in the forest, filled with our waste.

I have lunch at the farm market. I stare at my hair in the rear view mirror.

I had my hair cut. Really cut - at a salon. And ever since, my hair has decided to be curly. Not curly-curly, but a nice soft curly, like fine baby hair. And ever since, I've struggled to let go and let it curl.

I enter the site office, surprised at the lack of stink. I remember going to the old dump, a vast seagull-strewn wasteland near the Port Mann Bridge. I remember the thick, suffocating garbage smell, and the large machinery pushing the piles of waste around. Bursting black garbage bags. Seagulls.

Now, at home, I cannot stop thinking about it. I will know tomorrow. The dump - believe it or not - is my gateway into the next stage of my life. The transition from Biologist to Engineer. Or, maybe more accurately, the blending of my interests into one.

I can only hope - and cross my fingers - that I am qualified enough to get a summer job at... the dump.

Roots | Shoots