I find myself with a do-over at my adult life. I have a blank canvas of opportunities to create something new for myself and my family. I'm faced with a specific task, though. I have to find the right job this time. I have to figure out where I'm supposed to be and what my career is supposed to be. It feels daunting, to say the least.
I had an interesting chat with Ben tonight. It boiled down to...
1. Ben thinks (and I believe he really does think this) that "you're not happy unless you have something to worry about."
2. I'm too qualified for many jobs and not qualified for the rest of them.
I feel like the green college first-year student (that's the terminology we roll with at Manchester--"freshman" is sexist and unnecessarily so) who wants to do everything and can't decide what to really do. I feel like I'm signed up for a general studies program that doesn't lead anywhere concrete. I want to do everything and dabble in everything. But that, surprise surprise, costs money. For example, to complete a masters degree (which, what do you know...I already have one of those) in school counseling, which I almost pursued 5 years ago, at a university within 1 hour of me (my range), it would cost $22,000 and change just for tuition. That's a serious commitment. Argh.
I guess I'll just have to chill out and relax a little, which has never been especially high on my list of attributes. That's the part of job interviews I hate the worst: "Tell me why you're awesome..." Blah.
My faith is being tested in a time when I have little support that I am readily in contact with. Audrey is still a good listener, but Abby sometimes changes the topic. Simply put, I'm geographically misplaced, and that makes me anxious. I don't know how to interact with the changing professional landscape. Ben's right, though: I am a professional worrier sometimes. Bleck.
With this in mind, I leave you with 2 things. First, if you read my previous post, bless you. It stunk. And it also took me something like an hour and a half to write it because I was watching The West Wing (which I recently discovered is streaming on Netflix now and is even more readily accessible than popping my DVD in ye olde DVD player) and lost my mojo relatively early in the post but was bound and determined to write something about it. So I did. Second, the Bard is going to put this post to bed with a quote from Othello.
"How poor are they that have not patience! / What wound did ever heal but by degrees?"