queen of wands

This time last year I just started working as a deli assistant in a mom and pop shop in Bellevue near the 520 bridge. I had recently quit my overly strenuous and stressful job in a huff and I was killing time by picking up shifts for an out-of-venue catering company based in Renton. My job search had been nothing but successful. Even with 7 years management and supervisory positions in the restaurant industry I could not find a job. No calls even. I'm a woman of constant motion and full capacity momentum--two weeks of unemployment is not in my tarot cards, or at least I refuse to see unemployment in my deck.

Madonna and I have the same dosha--the scorched earth, running around with our hair on fire dosha--the toxic yet unstoppable Vata Pitta combo. I like to remind myself Madonna is Madonna because she is a Vata Pitta and I remind myself being a Vata Pitta is something to be proud of, like being a Virgo and having a retirement account in your 20's.

So there I was, breathing fire and throwing fire balls into the air with no place to burn it all off. My period of unemployment and stagnant energy was killing my insides--I needed to find a job and quick before I start setting things on fire, literally. Just when I've decided I was completely unemployable I got an interview and was hired the next day. My hourly rate was down 50 cents, my commute upped to almost an hour in the heat of rush hour traffic and my job title... It was supposed to be a Deli Lead in Training but by the time my 30 days rolled around, I realized I was still a barista and my promised raise wasn't going to happen.

My perpetual unhappiness was assuaged by working insane hours. It was a balm to my empty soul. I worked 40 hours at the cafe and I worked at focus groups, paid surveys, a movie set for a while and picked up catering shifts all over town. When I do have downtime, I load up on books at the library and burn through stacks of books and going home every night staring outside my window--the heat emanating from my skin could power a Prius.

"It burns, burns, burns, ring of fire"

I was singing this song constantly not as an homage to Johnny Cash but because I felt like I had this fire burning away in my insides with no place to go. My tarot cards revealed nothing but wands and wands. Queen of Wands, the Fire Queen, she was always beside me, always next to me and I felt her everywhere I went. This was around the time I started eating fiery, spicy food. Once, I went to a Mexican restaurant and I ate a whole roasted jalapeno. I cried involuntary tears but I kept coming back, upping my spice tolerance. I kept telling myself it was my body's way of fighting my eternal sugar tooth. My body wanted to cure itself of its addiction to saccahrine. But I just wanted the heat, the spice and the warmth that lives underneath my skin.

Around this time I learned how to bake. I craved the intense heat of a professional kitchen's double convection oven blasting in my face, melting my perfect eyeliner. Employees at the corporate park gorged on my lemon bars and cake-like chocolate chip cookies.  I delighted in watching people feed on my pastries; I felt like Vianne Rocher, only with luminous lemon bars.