And like John kransiski said "When you're lucky enough to meet your one person, then life takes a turn for the best. It can't get better than that." And that's today's episode of "all things love".
Helen claims she'll never understand why Emma listen to these podcasts, but in truth they give her energy and make even the most mundane tasks feel like something to look forward to.
Her all-time favorite podcast, "all things love," had that episode today. Jane and Lewis, a married pair, serve as its cornerstone. They are also the greatest literary duo.
Despite the fact that She has never met them, She adores them because of the way they interact and communicate.
She interacts with them by commenting on every episode of their podcast, She could say they are familiar. More like, She is a part of their podcast family.
The previous episode of "all things love" began playing as She spits out the toothpaste into the sink to rinse my mouth.
She looked at herself in the mirror, observing the fresh zits that had developed on her skin the previous night. The products weren't working, and occasionally she questions whether any products actually do work.
She was really tempted to pop it, but had refrained because she didn't want the spots that would be left on my tanned skin.
She made a bun out of her black hair and secured it with a band. She didn't want to be late, as she was on every other day when it came to starting her shift at the restaurant.
She hurried into the shower, the water was so cold that one could freeze in it. The heater wasn't working and their land lord had refused to replace it.
That was the issue when you were a resident of a property like that with numerous renters and a useless landlord.
She quickly threw on her top and pants, grabbed my purse, and dashed into the living room.
"Good morning mum."
"You're late again today."
Maria Baker, her ever hardworking mother. She literarily had never seen her mother take a break, in the 22 years of Emma's existence.
It got worse after her father passed away, some years ago. She had been taking responsibility of everything and Emma had only been able to help with the little she was making from the restaurant.
"I woke up late."
She ate her French toast while sitting on the dining room table and smearing butter on it. She had on her scrubs and was prepared to leave for work.
"I'll be working two shifts today at the clinic."
"You work so much, you need to rest sometimes mum. You have had shifts through out this week."
While adding coffee to her cup, she passed Emma the butter.
"The bills are not going to pay themselves, you know that."
"It would have been better, if you had accepted the scholarship. Tossing her plates into the sink, she muttered as she stood up."
She had never stopped talking about the scholarship Emma had rejected and how it could have changed their lives.
She received a scholarship after high school to study engineering at one of the Ivy League universities, but had turned it down since it wasn't what She wanted to pursue.
Emma had always wanted to be a writer, the creator of one of history's most popular works, and perhaps even the top-selling author in the New York Times.
The thing about dreams like that, for someone like Emma, was that it was far-fetched, as her mother would say. She had taken up the job at the restaurant, to save up for a degree she wants and while at it, probably get to write a book of her own.
"I am trying my best. The restaurant..."
"How much does the restaurant pay? Minimum wage? There is so much bills to pay and you're stuck in these dream of yours."
Her Mother picked her bag, ready to leave for work. Emma dropped the toast she was eating, having lost her appetite.
She was heading for the door when Emma got up from where She was sitting and moved in her direction.
"I just need you to trust me, just this time."
The exact expression Maria gave her the day she had told her that she wasn't accepting the scholarship was returned as she turned to face me.
"People like us seize the opportunities that are given to us; we don't set out in quest of ambitions and other aspirations. That is life, sweetheart."
"Your sister is coming home today," She added.
She walked out of the door, before Emma could make any statement.
Emma was used to all of it by now and maybe it wouldn't even hurt her so much, if she wasn't stuck on the first page of the book she was writing.
She was starting to prove her mother right and sometimes even wished she had accepted the scholarship too.
Emma picked up her bag, walking out of the door in order to catch up with the bus.
She ran down the two stories of the building. There were roughly 20 units in the structure. Due to the landlord's refusal to fix any of the house's broken items, their next-door neighbor had recently moved out.
Since Emma could remember, They had resided in the apartment. If there were such a thing as "longest tenant," they would most likely win it.
Apart from the occasional noises from some apartments. She loved living there, it's the only home she had known and the neighbourhood, although can be crazy, wasn't entirely bad.
Their apartment complex was in the heart of the neighborhood, surrounded by many other homes that had already been there for over a decade.
It was an old neighbourhood, Probably one of the oldest in the town. It was majorly an area with mostly immigrants and that explains why most shops around were family owned businesses.
"Emma dear, have a nice day at work," Mrs Lopez said.
"Good morning, Mrs Lopez," Emma said smiling.
Mrs Lopez could also be considered for longest tenant award. She had also lived there for as long as Emma could remember.
She was in her fifties, shared a home with two of her cats, and led a traditional existence.
She was always watering her plants by the time Emma was leaving for work. She retired from her consulting job already and went out with her friends to party every Friday night.
When Emma arrives at home from work, Mrs lopez was almost always sitting in front of a book. She was allegedly simply living her greatest life on paper.
The fact that she had never been married or given birth made Emma wonder whether she ever feels lonely, but because her mother often says that happiness is a matter of perspective, she didn't think of it much.
Emma hurried into work about 8:15 am. She was supposed to resume by 8am.
"You're late again," mark said, as Emma made her way in. She wore her apron, dropping my bag.
"I know, I know. Is James around?"
"No."
"Thank God."
Her boss would have probably fired me if he knew she was late again. It was her third time this week.
Mark was an high school student, working over the summer holiday at the restaurant. Sometimes Emma wondered why he chose to spend his whole summer in a restaurant, rather than have fun in some camp or doing some other interesting stuff.
"Table five isn't served yet."
"I will take their order now."
Emma approached the table while adjusting the knotted apron that was refusing to fit.
"Excuse me? What can I get you?"
He dropped the newspaper he was reading onto the table next to him.
She became engrossed in the young, attractive man's brown eyes, thick brows, and well-defined jaw as he stared at her.
"Coffee please."
"You said?"
She became aware that she had been focusing on his face rather than what he was saying.
"Coffee, I will have some coffee first."
"Alright, I will get that to you right away."