Last week’s steady supply of stress-relieving treats came at the perfect time. Just after I pressed “Publish” on my Train Thoughts post, I finally got word from the dream job I’ve been waiting on.
That word was not the word I was expecting. No, not the words that secured the job that I’d already been talking about like it was mine. Nope. This email was filled with words like “future” and “hang on”. Bugger.
The first 12 hours with the news went fine. I started thinking about my next options (and scheduling meetings with those options) and how I can focus even more attention on this blog now that I gave myself a crash course in all things interwebs. Not so bad, right?
Not even close.
Friday was a $hit-show in my head. (I seriously do put some of the blame on all the sugar I ate in the previous 48 hours. But if I can’t turn to that vice in my hour of need, what can I do?!) There was rage, tears, panic, and all the other angst-y things only 13-year-old girls are supposed to feel. I felt like such a failure. I need to make my own money. I have a MBA for goodness sake. I should be doing something with my life.*
I muddled through the day, taking Mal (and later Randy) to a couple Halloween parties. I even met some other stay at home moms who talked about a weekly play date. It all was nice, but so claustrophobic.
In these moments of unhappiness, neither Randy’s presence nor a pile of mini-Snickers bars were working. Instead, I went to bed early and wrote in my journal to 20-year-old Malorie. Finally, I found something that took me off of the edge.** I wrote to her “I just want you to be proud of me, Malorie.”
Then it hit me. I’m proud of my parents for a great many things besides their professions. Sure, it would probably be in the first couple of paragraphs about dad that he was a manager-level guy at GM, but the fact that he experienced life and was friendly with everyone would probably come first. Maybe we don’t have to be defined by our professions.
And frankly, if we are, I guess “blogger and yoga teacher” would probably sound pretty cool at Malorie’s second grade career day.
I had a conversation with a good friend later in the weekend who said I remind her of her mom. A. That’s a huge compliment. B. Her mom has spent her whole life looking for the thing that’s going to leave her fulfilled. This has meant she was a tour guide, a real estate agent, a stay at home mom, an artist and some other things. Yep, that does sound familiar. Let’s look back at point A. I think Mrs. M. is a really neat lady and this is part of it. She didn’t let herself get stuck in something she didn’t like. So again, I posit that we don’t need to be pigeon-holed by a job title.
Those of you that do have traditional “real” jobs – if you were to write a paragraph about yourself, at what point does your job come up?
I guess all is fine. I’m back at the drawing board this week figuring out the next shiny object that’s going to make me happy and learning from my mistakes in this last experience. Anyone looking for someone who is good at event planning, marketing, Facebook engagement, teaching yoga and/or thinking creatively***??
Sigh.
*As we’ve established in previous posts, I have all the admiration in the world for those of you that want to be stay at home moms. You are brave, strong, and patient souls. Those are three words that will never describe me. For me to feel complete, I need more.
** I guess writing is better for the heart than chocolate products. Blah.
***If by “thinking creatively”, you mean ponder all the what-ifs that could be in store for your organization and then some.
Girl, you know I was right there with you just a few short weeks ago. I have a master’s degree! And I DON’T have a house or a husband or a baby or a savings account or a retirement plan or anything else that even remotely makes it look like I have my $hit together like everyone else our age does. What I did have was doctor’s bills, my parent’s spare bedroom, and a whole lotta despair.
But dEude. Things changed. In, literally, 2 weeks. I sent one of those internet system applications in – that NEVR work because they shuffle you out automatically by some dumb, random factor. And then I got a phone call. And a Skype interview. And then an offer! All within a week. Seriously. For a DREAM job in a DREAM city. And in another week I found a seemingly nice guy to live with in a nice place in a nice area with a nice landlord.
And now I struggle with feeling super unworthy because I had had so much despair. I thought, “what the h@ll am I doing at my age with my education working the crap job I’m working?” I used the health thing as an excuse for awhile – and rightly so – but I gave up hope (in my weaker moments) that anything would change. And that sucked. And it’s hard to dig yourself out of that.
My advice, I guess, is to take those weak, rare moments of motivation and hope and exploit them to their fullest. Don’t let the doubts creep in. It’s a roller coaster, a cycle of doing this. And my applying for this dream opportunity happened when I pushed away the doubts, latched onto the motivation, and exploited it for a few hours.
I would also advise applying for things that are easy to get that will make you feel good. Like volunteer opportunities if you have the time, board service, etc. It’s nice to be wanted, and even the smallest amount of wanting takes the sting out of rejection.
I can not tell you how excited I am for you, Mandi. This goes to show you that good things happen to those that are patient. Or not patient, but who hold themselves back from the crap to wait for the best. I know that wasn’t an easy wait. And look at things now. Seriously, so exciting. I have to remember this, but patience will never be my strong suit.
Oh Maggie…. I remember feeling the same when my son was very young! I longed to be away. I wanted to work so that I felt like I had a life. Then… He grew into this little person that I could communicate with and do fun things with and I wanted to stay home! You will want different things at different times in your life (I can say this because I just turned 50) but what I hope you know…. All of it…. Is okay!
I spent a lot of years feeling inferior because I didn’t have a 4 year degree. I was a lowly hygiene assistant with an associates degree. (I was a darn good one too… By the way… And I loved my job). Later, after going through a divorce… I realized that it was the superficial people I was hanging around that perpetuated those feelings of inferiority.
There are times now that I wish I had more time to blog, cook and do fun things, but I have to say… I am completely comfortable with my position, (I’ve graduated to office manager now! Lol!) my degree and my self worth at this point in my life because I’ve learned that it’s not “what” you do…. It’s “how well” you do it that matters! I promise one day… You will be longing to be at home and have time to go to school parties, dance recitals, soccer games and still keep your house relatively straight and put a meal on the table before 9:00pm! Life evolves!
“Life evolves.” Now that is a bumper sticker in the making if I ever heard of one. I keep thinking to myself that I’m surrounded by all of these professional women, so I need to be just like them. But not a one of them have made me feel like I can’t keep up. I think we’re getting together as much as we did back when I was in a traditional job. It’s all on me. As it has been since the grade school day’s report cards. Of course my parents wanted me to get good grades, but I was the only one saying a B wasn’t good enough. I’ve got to learn to stop judging myself, huh?
[…] can I work for you” discussion and LONG story short, here we are. A few weeks back, I posted the whine about the delay, thinking I wasn’t getting the job. Turns out I just wasn’t patient […]