There's something a little depressing about coming home after being away for over a year and discovering that half of the clothes in your old closet are now too small for you. And it's not like you were a tiny little slip of a thing in high school, and this is due to natural growth. No, it's just that buttons won't fasten without pulling the fabric, or that shirt now hugs you just close enough to have crossed the line from "fitted" into "too small" territory. Besides, I think girls finish most of their "natural growth" by the time they graduate high school, anyway.

If you're wondering why I'm musing about clothing, it's because I just spent the last half hour doing something I'd been procrastinating for weeks: cleaning my room. Mostly, my messiness has to do with clothes. I get lazy so I don't put my clothes away at the end of the day, and they pile up on chairs and in baskets and sometimes just on the floor, until it gets so out of hand that I can't ignore it any more. Plus, I'm running out of clothes to wear, and I tire of digging through corners of my closet to find something clean. Which is how I discovered this "too small" thing. A very cute jacket I bought at Forever 21 when I was a senior in high school, and that I tried on again a few days ago to try and look nice while I went job-hunting, is now barely too small to button comfortably in the front.

Which is as good a segue as any: I am officially on the job hunt. So far I've applied at Starbucks and a couple of local restaurants.

I'd like to get a serving job, so today I got up early (well, early for a Saturday) and, along with a dozen or so fellow servers/aspiring servers, got my alcohol servers license (did I use "servers" too much in that sentence?). It made me feel like I was part of some elite group, sitting there at my white, plastic fold-up table, listening to stories and tips from those more seasoned at alcohol service. Because of it's effects, alcohol has to be monitored very, very carefully, and as a server of alcohol, you're the one responsible for monitoring customers, keeping track of how many they've had in what amount of time, and cutting them off before they're so drunk that if they go out and get in an accident, you're liable for over-service. Not to mention checking I.D.s, watching out for SID agents (which basically just means doing your job right), and keeping a strong front against customers who may get angry if you don't give them the drinks they want.

It gives you a sense of great responsibility to not only provide good customer service, but to also protect your customers, their families, and anyone else who could potentially be hurt by someone who's been drinking too much. As the class went on, it got a little daunting.

I was shocked to learn that it's actually against the law to refuse service of alcohol to a pregnant woman. The reasoning is that you can't discriminate again "classes of people", and pregnant women would fall under a "class of people." You can greatly discourage them from drinking, or pass them off to someone else to be served, but legally, there's nothing you can do to stop a pregnant woman from buying alcohol.

Anyway, five hours later and I'm licensed to serve alcohol, which will hopefully make me more hirable at restaurants.