I went on a job interview yesterday. A simple job, yet a little different from where I am now. The tasks are basically the same. The money just a few dollars more and the hours are greater than the 20 I work presently. The interview went well. I spoke properly. I looked him in the eye. I shook his hand. I looked professional (afro included). As I said my good-byes and thank yous and headed out of the door, I knew it wouldn’t make me happy.
I went on a job interview yesterday. I need to make more money. I would like to move. I would like to save. I would like to send the kids to college and a part time paycheck just does not cut it–so….I went on an interview yesterday. But it isn’t what I want.
Not the job, per say. The job was neat. I would learn a few new skills, meet some new people, and perhaps add another 5+ year employer to my resume….but it isn’t what I want.
What I want is this. Right here. Right now. A desk. A phone. Converses on my feet. A cute shapeless dress on my body. A computer. A keyboard. And words. I want the creative license to just….be. I want words and enlightened thoughts spilling out onto blank pages. I want this.
When I told YG my thoughts on the interview yesterday, he fell silent for a moment and finally said, “Want to know what I see you doing? I see you writing. That’s it. Writing.” Me too. I see it too.
I went on an interview yesterday and by the amount of “Thank You for Your Resume Submission” emails I receive daily (due to my job applying marathons), I will likely go on more. I have to be realistic, right? We need to eat and bathe and live with lights. So, I will go on more interviews and apply for more jobs just as a cheating spouse would continue to go home and pretend to like their partner—all the while dreaming/loving/fantasizing about something (someone) else.
With The Kids pulling the growing up move on me and with my life starting sorta over from scratch, I took an inventory of where I stood and where I wanted to end up. Clearly there was a gap. I work a part time job that does not quite capture my attention. My bank account sees more negative signs than a false E.P.T. My debt to income ratio is hysterical and I don’t see any of this getting any better without some work on my part. Enter the never-ending BA quest.
The first step in changing anything is to actually want to change it. The second step is to plan to actually change it. Step three is holding your nose and jumping in (with intention that is). I recognized something had to change. I had the opportunity to re-do somethings and rearrange some others. I had a second shot at this and I wanted to do it right.
I pulled the trigger and stepped back into the classroom–virtual anyway. I decided it was not too late for me to move into the educational system (teaching adults…not kids….I shudder at the thought). And, sure, I had attempted to go back to school before, but this time it is different. I have no partner to hide behind. No kids to use as an excuse. No more years to waste. There is just me and the goal. That is it.
So for weeks I have been reading, studying, doing homework and making a real effort to be an intentional student. I have kept up with assignments, read during baseball tournaments, spent off days writing papers, and stayed late at work to finish up homework. Presently, I have purposefully made room for obtaining a degree so that while The Kids are off doing things college kids do, I will be settling into The Beach House teaching at a University.
Plans change. We know this. But I am willing to take the steps to make the plans possible. It is exciting and rewarding to know that if I keep pushing there is an obtainable goal at the end of the yellow brick road. Dr. Van Dunk never sounded so good 😛
There is a picture of me with a pen to my lips smiling. I was about three. I remember Mommy reading to me at night and being drawn in by the words more than the pictures. When people would ask what I wanted to be when I grew up I would say a best selling children’s book author and Shelia E. It is quite obvious I haven’t quite reached either goal–yet.
When I reached high school, I decided being Shelia E was a long shot, but becoming an Editor-in-Chief of a major magazine, living in an NY loft apartment with a closet full of amazing clothes and a revolving bed full of Adonises was achievable. I could graduate early, go to college early, BS/Masters/PhD in one six year fell swoop, retire by 35, dedicate 10 years or so to writing books, maybe get married, perhaps have one kid and by the time I was 45 settle down at a university and teach English to uninterested 18 year olds. I was a woman with a plan.
I understand the journey I have been lucky enough to take is just that–a journey. Journeys are not meant to wrap up nice and neat. They are continuous excursions with moving parts. They are never point A/point B simple. That’s what trips are for. This journey is ever changing and nothing is set in stone, and after some growth it finally clicked: My travels are not done until I am taken outta here.
I have 5 years until my nest is completely empty and what happens after that? I want to go back to school. Yes, I have attempted it before–quite a few times actually–and yes, I have said I was going back before only to get derailed. The plan (EIC, Adonises, NY loft, etc) was skewed a bit. It got a little clouded, but why can’t I pick up where the dream left off? I am 35 now. Not retired, but I am 35. I can still dedicate 10 years to writing. I can still maneuver through BS/Masters/PhD landing in a classroom at 45 with uninterested 18 year old students calling me Dr. Van Dunk. That is possible…all of it…and for once I am not afraid of any possibility.