Update On the Job Hunt

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.

Defined By Our Profession

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.

5 Comments

  1. Pingback: How Courage and Clean Eating Found Me A Job - Truly, Margaret Mary

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