The Surrendered Life

If you believe in Pythagorean Philosophy, Numerology, Life Path Numbers, and the Laws of Nine Year Cycles, which I do, this is year 4 for me.  In fact, it is the year that corresponds to my life path number of 31/4.  I have not treated this year lightly.  Last year, year 3, I kind of forgot about these cycles, and that was ok, it wasn't incredibly necessary to be aware of it, but this year meant business.  Strangely enough, it has also been a year to learn about death - something I had never been comfortable with.  I have known that this year, the year of stability and process, requires work.  I have taken it upon myself to deal with issues of financial and emotional stability.  I have worked through interpersonal issues, begun to deal with childhood issues that led to grown-up issues.  I have asked to be challenged and to be taught, and those requests have been obliged.

Earlier this year, I set out to write a Sunday School lesson.  It was one of Francis Chan's DVD's on The Holy Spirit, and we were looking at the lesson where he compares the uneasiness to hear God's call to the uneasiness you feel when you think about how exactly your food is made and what is in it, how it's processed, what it looks like during that process.  A pretty gross image, but it's tangible.  Often times, when God calls us to do something, it makes us uncomfortable.  It challenges us to leave our comfort zone, to put ourselves out there. 

At the end of the lesson, I told the class of my recent vision/call to write a book.  The thought terrifies me, but there's an undeniable feeling that I am supposed to share something I have learned with others.  You see, those "childhood issues that led to grown-up issues." sinful issues, had been challenging me spiritually.  They were a constant battle to deal with.  One pastor would say "just surrender your life to Christ" to which I angrily replied, "I have; you don't understand, you don't just surrender once - you surrender over and over again, it's a daily battle" and he would retort, "Then you haven't fully surrendered."

Immediately, I disagreed.  I truly felt as if I had, and I was bitter with him for not understanding.  I vowed to title this book that I had felt called to write The Surrendered Life so I could prove that the battle continues on after the surrender, and offer some much needed hope to others fighting a similar battle.  8 months later, I have spent a great deal of time reflecting on this and have been swarmed with resources, have learned from challenges, and am able to concede that he is somewhat correct, but what you have to realize is that the surrendering isn't defined as the end result.  It is the process.  It is the continual slipping away and recommitment to a call, the conscious struggle to bring your life into alignment with that which the core of your being believes.

The Surrendered Life is this process after the initial surrender, through which the lessons are learned, the strength is gained, and remains the appropriate title for the book, even if it is just a working one, or becomes merely a chapter in a larger volume.  The book will be the authentic struggle of a young woman trying to find her place in the professional world, trying to quench the fires of addictions, battle the darkness of depression, and teach her inner child about the love and support it needed to feel. Her story will share the teachings of all manner of people, travels and encounters - the fight with the limitations of her Christian faith, finding depth in the traditions of other religions and spiritual practices, and using those teachings, ultimately to challenge and strengthen herself.

Some of my fears in writing this are: Is my story really one worth telling?  Should I tell it from my own perspective?  Or as a semi-autobiographical piece of fiction?  How much should be true?  How can I protect the people whose lives will become exposed in the process?  And most importantly, I have no idea how a book about a process is supposed to have an ending.  What conclusions am I drawing?  Do I really need to write this in order to synthesize what I have learned?  If so, should I even share it?  Should I write this or not?

What scenes are important to draw from?

Childhood
Happy times
Surrounded by adults
The early death of childhood
8th grade - realizing that when I am upset with or irritated by others, it's generally a mirror of something I am doing.
Reiki
Church
College
Architecture School - A tribute to Grandmother
Relationships
Sex
Depression - bursting into tears in studio
Infidelity
Graduation
Travels
A year of psychological unemployment, of creative employment, and the lessons learned from children - A tribute to Nana
Finding a relevant faith - like hearing a familiar voice, calling one home.
Struggles with that faith
The surrender
The slipping away, the returning back
The fight for young adult ministry, the call to leave.
It never means nothing
Perfect Timing - Jobs
Myers Park
Book Study
The call to write.  The uneasiness to hear God's call.
The daily surrender - the argument with the pastor
Year 4
counseling
Papa's death.  regrets and blessings.
The HUB
leading a book study - how it came about, the breadcrumbs God puts in our lives and how I'll never fully understand what that meant, but cannot deny that it was meant to happen.
a new counselor, a new focus
The car saga - a tribute to Papa
Adderall
Sending up a flare
The recognition of the loss of inner strength.
The conversations that followed.

Roommates
Pastors
Dancers
Choir members
Couchsurfers
Holistic Wellness Practitioners
Cowboy Casanovas
Fine Dining Friends
Mentors - professors and bosses
Arguments
Finding true friendship
Breaking down barriers and putting herself out there, sometimes successfully
Molly, Claire and Cede, Daniel and Charlie
A year to learn about death.

Travels:
a week in charlotte every summer
4 weeks in a motor home
DC
Chicago
New York
Europe
Florida and Georgia
A tech free weekend
Antigua

Listen and you'll learn more than if you speak, causing people to realize you are in the room and change the topic.  An invaluable lesson my mother doesn't even remember teaching me.
Books and movies - Daring Greatly, The Celestine prophecy, The alchemist, marcus aurelius, desiderata, girls in trucks (the main character doesn't have to be a likeable person all the time.  she doesn't have to be perfect), cs lewis, driven to distraction, the wounded heart.

It never means nothing.

How much of this is the back story and how much of it is the meat to really spend time chewing on?


 

What are the things that just aren't going to matter any more?

My Story:

When I started to realize that, as a member of the HUB team, I would be asked to share my story, I was terrified.  How could I possibly be that open and honest to tell what was really going on inside of me in response to each week’s message?  And how could I possibly tell the whole story in just a few minutes time?  As I thought more and more, I realized… There’s no need to tell the whole story, lord knows they don’t have time for that…  As I was preparing for our final week of book study this week, my story was finally given to me.

When I was growing up, there was a constant cycle of throwing or giving things away.  Clothes got too small, we gave them away.  Toys became boring or too simple as our developing minds mastered the concepts they were teaching, we gave them away…  School papers were completed and graded, we threw them away, but there were those sentimental things that we would hold onto that would have special meaning that we still have today.

Somewhere around high school, I started having a harder time getting rid of things, especially in College.  I knew I had spent money on those books and architecture magazines, and reading assignments I had failed to complete.  The notes I had taken that I planned to review one day… They still had so much value I could gain from them if only I would sit down and read them. 

There were those pinterest projects I loved that I rushed out and bought all the supplies for, knowing I had the skill level not to end up on pinterestfail.com if I just took the time to work on it.  There was all that art supplies, because an architect is supposed to know how to draw, right?  And one day, one day I’m going to have time to get around to practicing again.

There were those clothes that I fit into in high school and my early college days.  I had gained so much more than the freshman 15, but held onto them in hopes that I could enjoy wearing them again one day.

As I moved from apartment to apartment things began to accumulate, to the point that I now have an official “junk room.”  Over the past two years I have chipped away at this pile of stuff that I have toted around with me.  I still am.  Anyone who has seen the trunk of my car can attest to the fact that this task is not yet complete.

 

***

A few weeks ago, I was enjoying a tech-free weekend in the mountains.  I highly recommend it, and as much as I think we take for granted the concept of a “retreat” in our first-world society, there is truth in getting away to gain some perspective on life.  

That weekend, I realized that so much of my life has been focused on who I am today, and not who I will be in the future.  That many generations will come after me, and I have the opportunity and responsibility to make a difference.  In that moment, my life zoomed out to where I was a tiny speck, and I saw all those who had come before me, who had shaped who I am today, and all those who would come after me.  I will have died and gone on to heaven, but here on earth, a legacy will be left behind.  As I began to look at my life from that perspective, I asked:  “What am I doing today that won’t matter to the generations that will come after me?  And more importantly, what can I be doing today that will?”

I’ve sat with that question for a few weeks, and as I was preparing for our final week of book study this week, the story of cleaning out my house suddenly melded with the perspective I had gained that weekend in the mountains.

 

***

 

You see, after throwing away 4 years of architecture magazines, and staring at volumes of the next four years, I thought to myself “One day, I am going to get rid of this stuff.  Will it make any difference that I have held onto it until then?”  When I was reading this week about the call to follow Jesus, wherever, whenever and by letting go of whatever is keeping you back, I thought of that question.  It’s not the physical stuff that holds us back, it’s the holding onto grudges, being caught up in past relationships, being consumed by gossip, an addiction, self-centerdness…  But the same rule applies as that for getting rid of the physical stuff: One day, I’m going to have to get rid of that stuff.  Will it make any difference that I had held onto it that long? 

Think about the things that just aren’t going to matter at the end of this week, at the end of this year, when you’ve achieved that professional license, when you’ve met that deadline, when you’ve met that guy or girl that God has planned for you to be with, when you’re holding your first child, when your best friend is facing a serious trial, when the person you see as your enemy faces a horrible tragedy, when one of the needs of this world that you’re currently ignoring suddenly becomes an epidemic, and most importantly, when you’re gone, and only your legacy lives on.

What are the things that just aren’t going to matter any more?  Will it make any difference that we’ve held onto them that long?  And what can we avoid accumulating in the first place?  What are the things we can be doing today that will matter? 

A very wise Snapple cap once shared an Emerson quote with me:

"Knowledge is when you learn something new every day, wisdom is when you let something go every day.”

There was comfort in holding on to those books, clothes, and art supplies, just as there was comfort remaining angry with someone who had hurt me, and allowing my frustrations to affect those around me, but in the end, there is wisdom in letting go, because there will come a day, when that thing just won’t matter any more, and it won’t make any difference that I had held onto it that long.

Friendship:

Last night, I sent up a flare, of sorts.  I typically abhor passive-aggressive conflict resolution/emotional venting facebook posts, but I was wounded and it was the only tool I could find in my survival kit at the time:

Some people, you'll never be able to please, and will judge every little thing you do or word you say. Nothing will ever be right, or good enough. You'll praise them, and reach out to them to build a friendship. They'll have the audacity to judge you behind your back, and they'll hurt your friends, leading your friends to distance themselves from you. You'll invite them to your party and they'...ll decline by "leaving the conversation." They'll never invite you out or to be part of a group. You'll say you need a girls night, and they'll refer you to other people. You'll see this person when the mood suits them. For some reason they lead you to believe they care, so you keep trying, you're not really sure why, because all they ever give you in return is selfishness, criticism, double standards. They get upset about something, but it's not ok for you to give them your opinion about why they shouldn't be upset. You get excited about something and they tell you why you shouldn't be excited. You get upset, and they tell you why it's not okay for you to be upset. You'll be on such a high, having had such a great night, and you'll leave their presence feeling worthless, judged, kicked around, and patronized. You're just someone they have to put up with. Just part of their job. My friends... this is not the definition of a friend.

Raina Walochik Smith Cut your losses. You can walk away knowing you gave an honest effort. I guarantee it's not personal, they are probably unhappy period.

Ingeborg Aarnink Nicole there are unhappy selfish people ......!

Lindsay Morris You deserve better treatment.

Courtney White Be a friend to yourself and cut this person loose.
 

In response to this post, where I expressed the hurt another person has caused me, which serves as a tangible example of the hurt I have felt from many others, I received several messages from friends, some as comments on the post, but many as personal messages, asking if I was ok.  One person even broke down my post, line by line, imparting wisdom, encouraging me, and asking questions like: why I was allowing another person to dictate my happiness, why I was investing in a one-sided relationship, why I was not able to be happy being my own best friend, why I try so hard to impress others, why I need their affirmation, why I spend time on a relationship that drains my energy…

I needed time for this to sink in.  I had known, as difficult as it was, that this person whom I greatly admire, but had caused pain was placed into my life to teach me a lesson.  And the friend who dissected my post was also placed into my life to teach me a lesson.  You see, this lovely lady came into my life quite unexpectedly.  She fell in love with a friend of mine, and I immediately loved her, but took her friendship for granted.  Both have made me realize a few things.

I’ve had a hard time with the “being my own best friend” thing, and I haven’t really been a great friend to others, either.  I remember noticing for the first time in the eighth grade that usually, when something bothers me about someone, there is something they are doing, that I also do.  I’ve been pretty selfish also, and have not always recognized the people around me who do love and appreciate me, and allow me to love and appreciate them in return.  This past Saturday, I had 5 or 6 different events and I cancelled my attendance at all of them.  I’m not sure why, exactly, but I just knew that I didn’t have the energy to give others the attention they deserved.  It’s been pretty tough, but I’m hoping that now that my exams are over, I can get my life back in balance.  I have spread myself so thin, trying to please too many people at the cost of losing my own core strength and identity.  So that, I suppose, has to come back first.  Then, out of abundance, not the need for affirmation, I can focus on others and give them the attention, love and energy they deserve.  I’ve been so susceptible to what others think of me, because I’ve lost that core identity and control of my own life.

Last night, in Erin’s sermon, she spoke of the great lengths to which God will go to call us back.  That he will use both the bad and the good, the hard times and the happy times.  The challenges and the blessings.  I had not been to church in several weeks due to travels, illness, and exams, and could feel myself slipping away.  I have this arsenal of tools and lessons I have learned over the years, from my Christian faith, but my holistic wellness and spiritual practices as well.  These are gifts that, once received, can never be taken away, and on occasion I have used them, but I have neglected the use of them to their full potential.  I have buried them and pushed them away.  Last night, while singing with Kelly, Kelsey, and Jeff – our four voices locking together in harmony, I once again reached that depth I had been missing.  I sunk into those songs, and my heart reached a place of grounding and strength I had been missing.  Luckily, this physical feeling is powerful and easy to get back to, even after a burst of emotional pain.  It is from this place and the love and support of friends that care, that I have been able to recognize that which has been lacking in my life recently, and to be able to correct the misconceptions I had formed in my head.

Five and a half years.

It's been five and a half years.  I graduated three years ago, and am finally almost licensed.  And him? He's married, has a baby on the way, and has finally cleared out the atrociously cluttered middle bedroom that used to be our combined office/drafting studio and has painted it pink.  A rocking chair sits where my drafting table used to, and you know what?  I couldn't be happier for him.  I hope the energy of the late nights I spent awake there has vanished and he, she, and the baby experience peace and comfort in that corner, compared to the stress and agony it afforded me.  He's gotten all he deserves in life, which is the very best, a loving wife, a beautiful child, a happy family. 

She didn't like the idea that we were still friends, but she doesn't know.  She doesn't know that I'm the one who helped him write his dating profile, who listened to him decide if he should go out on a date with her, who told him where to take her for their first date, which ended up being the place he proposed to her.  That doesn't sound like someone trying to hold on to a love that isn't there.  That sounds like true friendship.  When they parted ways for a little while, I was the one who listened as he was so upset, and when she reached out to him again, I was the one who listened as it hurt to have the past brought back to mind.  When they started dating again, and she moved in, she was upset that I was still his friend, reaching out to see how he was doing, responding to his calls, listening to him the first time she made him mad.  And in the end, it was I who said, "I know she doesn't like me, and if talking to me is going to make your life more difficult, then I don't need to talk to you.  I know we're friends, but I don't want to make things harder for you."  And that was that, and we went our separate ways.  I sent a card when he finally graduated, and when he needed the dog's paperwork, two weeks after his wedding, he stopped by and we talked about how wonderfully happy he is and how beautiful the wedding was. 

I cut the three-year relationship tie five and a half years ago, but I still don't know how to cut the tie of the beautiful friendship that endured for three years after that.  I'm so incredibly happy for him, and I've left him alone, only seeing glimpses of his life on facebook.  My mother recently told me: "I know you had your struggles, but he really loved you.  I hope you can find that again."  A couple times I have thought that I did, but in the end, I'm still searching for that man who really loves me.  And this time, I won't make it so hard for him to do so.

the "L" word

I used to throw out the "L" word a little too early, and it lost its meaning.  I wanted it to mean more when I said it, so I decided I wouldn't say it again until I was sure.  The next (and most recent) time I told a guy I was falling in love with him was in the fall of 2010, after an intense first month of dating, during a discussion that ultimately led to three days of silence from him, followed by an email break-up letter.  I lost it.  I spun into the darkest depression I had ever seen.  I blamed myself for the slightest missteps which had caused me to lose him.  It took over a year to feel any sense of comfort and closure.  I had dated other people, but never had gotten over him.  It wasn't until I was surprised by a friendship that blossomed into a new relationship and dare I say, began to fall in love again, that I was able to understand the purpose of that intense, blissful encounter that made so much sense, that felt so right.  I finally realized that relationship's purpose was to teach me that such a connection could exist.  It wasn't until I found it again that I understood.  Yesterday I found out that while I had been tormenting myself, he had quickly moved on.  He had found love almost immediately, was engaged four months after we broke up, and married two months after that, all while I was fighting the darkness.  My head is still spinning.

Now back up.  It wasn't until I found it again that I understood.  I finally found that connection again, and this time it was even stronger, mutually rooted in faith, even, which had lacked in the past.  I felt again that feeling that everything just makes sense.  That you're exactly where you need to be, but I was scared.  I didn't tell him I loved him.  I had been so sure before, and it hadn't worked.  I don't know if I'm glad I kept my mouth shut this time around.  You see, he left too, and again I beat myself up for every little thing I could think of that could have changed the outcome.  He said he needed time, that he hoped one day we could get back to where we were.  I've tried not to push it, not to force anything because I know that will only push him away and I'll lose the good friend that I still have.  And I'm not waiting for him on purpose.  I told someone last week, I'm "de-facto" waiting.  I've been on a few dates, but nothing feels right.  I don't have time to put a huge effort into meeting someone new.  My emotions are still raw.  I don't have closure, and today, all that I can think of is what happened before, and hope that I'm not falling into the same trap again, that I'm beating myself up when he's already moved on...  Or will I go on beating myself up until I find it again?  In richer, purer form?  Who knows.  Like I said, my head is just spinning.

the timing was just too perfect

I really need to document all the ways that things have fallen into place over the past couple of months... and since no one else reads this, it's the perfect place to indulge in my joy without bothering anyone.

Seven and a half years ago I came to Charlotte to attend the College of Architecture at UNC Charlotte. On more than one occasion, I would notice a building and wonder who the architect was. It was often this one particular firm. One of my favorite buildings in Charlotte is a mixed-use condominium building that overlooks a small park, under which is a parking garage, in Uptown Charlotte. The building is an elegant composition and due to the park, is very visible from many angles. I have always loved this building. I took a studio with a professor who had worked at this firm and five years ago, interviewed with them for my first internship ever. I had zero experience working in a firm but had some CAD skills. They were not hiring a summer intern. I was frustrated at first, but appreciated it as the opportunity for a mock-interview that it was and ended up landing a job with an engineering firm designing water and wastewater treatment plants, then an architecture firm designing jails and courthouses. A few years later, I requested plans and elevations for that mixed-use building I loved so much in Uptown. I used the project as a precedent for my studio project that year - an urban design studio master plan for a transit-oriented-development. The pieces of my career lined up perfectly, even the year that I was laid off after graduation. I always knew I would end up back at the firm doing judicial work - even if it wasn't where I would be long term. I wasn't ready to move on. So a year of creative employment and I was back where I was supposed to be. In April 2011 I was hired on full time and worked on several projects - one of which I even called "mine" even though it was certainly a team effort. Work was plentiful for a while, but one by one we lost projects we were interviewing for. Other projects halted, and we were stuck. Work was drying up, but I was busy studying for my exams, so it seemed to work well for the time being.

March 12, 2012:

I was on the train on my way home from taking my first exam for architectural licensure, a day which was supposed to be a paid day off but due to the fact my hours had to be cut by 25%, that day ended up being my unpaid day off. Things were slowing down at the firm, but I could tell that they weren't going to pick up any time soon. The test had gone reasonably well - I felt confident about the vignette, but knew I had really screwed up on a few lateral forces questions. As I was decompressing on the train, I checked my email. At the bottom of the AIA newsletter there was a posting: one of my most highly regarded firms in Charlotte was hiring an architectural intern. And the credentials? Could not have been more perfectly suited to me.

Some way, some how, that week I found the energy I had been trying to muster since graduation to put together the rest of my portfolio and write a killer cover letter, making some changes to my résumé as well. I had read the post on Monday and felt a little uneasy submitting my résumé on Friday that week, but had put my heart into it and felt confident.

The following Wednesday, I got an email - I was one of three or four people that they had chosen to speak with further about the position. I nearly leapt out of my chair and had to contain the huge smile on my face as I sat at my desk. One co-worker knew that I had responded to the job posting, so I forwarded the email to him, and walked calmly out of the building so I could enjoy the moment away from everyone else. Later that day, I scheduled the interview for that Friday. It was a risky move - I was certain that I would be the first of the four to interview. Lucky for me, I learned they were hiring two positions, so my odds were pretty good.

The interview went well - an hour and a half of discussion that was free-flowing and I felt incredibly confident in my ability to fill the position. I was a little nervous showing them the project for which I had used their building as a precedent, but I framed the discussion well and, I may be mistaken, but were they impressed? Everything felt so natural, like it was meant to be. I left the interview and was beaming the whole weekend. Seeing that I had interviewed on Friday, I waited until Monday to send my thank-you email so that the weekend would not cover up my interview (normally I would write a hand-written thank-you but all correspondence thus far had been through email and I didn't want to "over-do" it). I felt incredibly confident about the job - partly because I was nervous about it. It would be difficult to leave the firm I had grown to love, to start fresh with a new firm that didn't know what I was capable of, and to prove myself all over again. It would be hard to look my bosses in the eyes and tell them I was leaving. This uncertainty made me all the more confident that I would get the job.

Then the wait... They said a week to a week and a half. But if I've learned anything, it's not to rush people. So I waited. Anxiously. Every day I would come home to check the mail - I had no idea how the news would come. Plus, I was also waiting for news about my structures exam. Every day, I would come home to either credit card offers, bills, or an empty mailbox. A couple of times I would psych myself out - certain that was the day something would come. One day, the mail man was at the building next to mine. I waited on the steps for him to come over. It was one of those days I was certain something would come... I wanted to call out to him "Don't even come up those stairs unless there is something from an architecture firm or the NC Board of Architecture!" I didn't. And into my hands, he delivered another lousy credit card offer.

April 4, 2012:

I found out that because of the paid holiday for Good Friday, my unpaid day off that week would be Thursday. My family was at the beach, so I sent my mother a text message "How big is that place you all are staying?" We agreed that after I worked a couple hours Thursday, I would head down to Ocean Isle to join them. I had just completed a large work assignment, so it was the perfect time to get away without having to stress about work assignments.

That evening, I was so excited about getting away to the beach for a few days that I forgot I was waiting for something... I knew I needed to ask a neighbor to check the mail while I was gone, but before doing so, ran up to check what the day had brought. There it was: a letter from the NC Board of Architecture. I fumbled with opening the envelope and trying to read the unfamiliar format, but soon found the words I was looking for: PASS. I jumped up and down - I don't know what got into me, because I never do that, no matter how excited I am... I called my mother first - and spread the word quickly among my friends. It was such a relief to pass my first exam, one that many people have claimed is the hardest of all.

The beach weekend was wonderful - so nice to get away and spend time with my stepsister and her two boys, then stayed with my aunt and her husband in Wilmington Saturday and Sunday. Terry's family has been so welcoming to me and was happy to have me join them for their Easter brunch.

On Monday after Easter I could tell something was up as soon as I got to the office. There had been a closed door meeting on Thursday with the firm owners and I just felt certain that something was about to happen - a furlough, or worse. Another closed door meeting and my concerns were confirmed. Tim and I were called into the office and informed that the firm had no work for us and had to let us go. After they explained that we needed to clear our things out of the office immediately I thanked them for working so hard to keep us and wished them luck. At that point I asked for a favor. I let them know I had interviewed for a position with another firm three weeks prior. My boss had worked with the person that interviewed me and so I asked if he would make a call on my behalf. He agreed and although surprised that I had already seen this coming, was relieved that I had the prospect of somewhere to go. He made the call immediately and left a message.

I cleared my things out of the office, and ran across the street to get a USB drive so I could get my files off the computer. When I returned, Paul was on the phone with someone catching up on news about his kids. I knew who he was talking to. The conversation shifted to a glowing reference about my work with their firm, and further defense that even though I worked with engineers, and on some less than thrilling building types (from a design standpoint), that I was not an engineer-type and had design potential as well. His referral brought tears to my eyes because it was one of only a few reviews I had received in my three and a half years there.

It had been three weeks since the interview and I had planned to call that day, but since Paul already did, I did not want to bother them. I took the week to get things in order at the house, to clean up, file my taxes, read, relax, and meet with people from the church and mixed-income housing coalition. I didn't worry - I knew in my heart that everything was going to work out perfectly. On Friday, I still had not heard, so I called the Architecture Firm. One of the men that interviewed me fielded my call, saying he had been meaning to call me, because they wanted for me to come in and meet the other firm principal that I had not met at my first interview. We scheduled it for Monday afternoon and I went about my weekend.

Monday's interview came along - I felt like it was more of a formality than anything - very much how I had felt when I interviewed for my previous position. This one was brief and salary and benefits were discussed. They would finalize their decision the next day.

April 17, 2012:

I was checking my email all morning. I had a doctors appointment at 11:30, but had said I would be available all day if they were to call. My phone was dying but I kept checking. As the nurse was checking me in, I said I would turn off my phone. Oh, I already had. I was expecting a job offer. At that very moment, my phone lit up. I only noticed because I was holding the phone in my hand. It was off, so it would not have rung. I said "oh, there it is" The nurse insisted that I take the call, and, when she heard that they were offering me to job, she smiled, gave me a thumbs up, and walked out the door so I could finish my conversation. It was brief - they didn't want me to wait any longer than the morning to hear back from them but would be emailing the offer letter that afternoon. She came back in and shared in my excitement, and I made it through the rather painful exam with a smile on my face.

I had never negotiated a salary in my life. The number they gave was lower than I had expected, but after a round of negotiations, I was presented a number I could really get excited about. Then it was official. I'm not changing my facebook or linkedin until after my first day, but it's official.

Today I got up for bootcamp at 6:00am, came home, and got dressed as if I were going to work. It was my dry-run. After a cup of coffee, a shower and fixing my hair, I was ready to walk out the door at 8:15. Work will start at 8:30. At 10:55 I left the house for my 11:00 appointment. I jokingly told the office manager that the five minute commute was going to take some getting used to. I went in and picked up the paperwork I need to fill out for my employment and thanked my new bosses for the opportunity to work with them. I was showed where I would be sitting, and I met another co-worker. Everything is just falling right into place.

The timing could not be more perfect. Right as work was slowing down, right as I started to get other aspects of my life in order, right as I had begun to sit for my exams, this job posting showed up. Right after getting laid off, the offer came through. Right before my insurance coverage wears out with the former firm, the new insurance will kick in, and now, my morning commutes will be five minutes (by car) or I could walk, or ride a bike. It's only a mile away. I vowed to purchase a bike with the money I would save on gasoline in just the first couple of months. It won't be every day, but certainly many times I will be able to enjoy this luxury.

I'm a lucky girl, and I cannot help but recognize God's fingerprints all over this. I'm incredibly thankful for everything that has been provided in my life.

O Fortuna

O Fortune,
variable as the moon,
always dost thou wax and wane.
Detestable life,
first dost thou mistreat us,
and then,
whimsically,
thou heedest our desires.
As the sun melts the ice,
so dost thou dissolve
both poverty and power.

Entering another phase of creativity. Glad I stocked up during the harvest.