Thursday, May 9, 2013


Sometimes opportunity appears at odd times.  It's funny to me how just when I start to worry that things are at a standstill and that there's very little purpose or meaning to my life, things happen to show me that I am, in fact, worth something and that I should continue doing what I do.


Back in March, I applied for a job.  I haven't worked in more than two years, and that job wasn't exactly skilled labor - I worked as a medical transcriptionist for a company based out of Massachusetts.  I had quit because I could no longer keep set hours every evening, what with swim meets and everything else, and since quitting I'd reached the level of stagnation and boredom that I enter right before I find a new job/hobby that consumes my time, and I'm sure Oz was getting rather frustrated with how depressed I had become, because when I'm not busy, I get depressed, and then the poor man has to listen to me whine about how impotent and useless and horrible I am because here I am at 31 years old and have no purpose and nothing to show for my life, and that, in turn, causes me to create incredible run-on sentences that really have no great literary value.  Not really, but that is one nasty-long sentence there.  Feel free to parse it for grammar mistakes.  I'm sure there are many.

Anyway, a couple of positions opened up or are being created (not sure which) at a company that teaches writing to homeschool students/families, and after much encouragement by Oz and some of my friends, I applied.  I honestly never expected to hear a word.

I heard.  I panicked, and then I answered some questions via e-mail and gave a critique for a small student writing sample... and I honestly never expected to hear a word.

I heard.  Again.  And again I panicked, because this time it meant the word interview, and I've never interviewed for a job in my life.  My first jobs - mowing and handpainting pottery - were courtesy of my father.  My journalism job fell into my lap while I interned as a high school student; when I graduated, I moved into the recently-vacated lifestyle reporter position.  I did some temp work while I was pregnant with M1, which required me simply to show up, and when he and M2 were small, I ran a church nursery because I was willing to do it.  After I quit that gig, I took up medical transcription, which did require some study, but when I applied for a job, everything was done online.  None of this interview business.  I did do one interview with a local company about a transcription position, but it was largely a skill test.

So for the first time in my life, I had to do an interview.  It took every ounce of nerve I had to push the 'call' button on Skype yesterday.  I'm glad I did, though, because now I am apparently on the list to receive an invitation to attend some training in July, and if I do well there, I will teach a writing class this fall.  Teach.  A writing class.  When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a teacher and an author.  And a secretary, because clearly I come from a home chock-full of women's lib principles.  Now, I have the opportunity to teach others writing, and that absolutely terrifies and exhilarates me at the same time.  I love to write; I like to think that I can pass that on.  If anyone else who is going through the same process reads this (because I know, via the Internet, a couple of other women who applied for the same job), I hope to see you in training, because I think you also would make spectacular teachers, probably far better than I.  Good luck.

This morning, one of my friends texted me.  First she wanted to tell me what songs to play at her funeral because she seems to be under the impression I'll live longer than she will, which amuses me because while, yes, my grandmothers are still living, one of hers is, too!  After I agreed to make sure that Eminem's song "Shake That" is on the playlist right after Sarah McLachlan and Sting, she said, "[My son] asked if you could tutor him in math this summer.  I'll pay you."

Math?  Oh, what the heck, why not?  I don't mind math.  Up to trigonometry and pre-calculus (except for geometry, which is of the devil), I even enjoy it.  I really like playing with numbers.  Plus, this is a good kid, and he's smart.  He just gets stuck, and his teacher this year hasn't really helped him much.  So... tutoring?  Sure. 

Opportunity.  It's an opportunist.  I just had to be patient, and I dislike being patient.  However, it would seem that it is time to get busy with the next phase of my life.  Things are about to get real here at Sunnyview, and I'm excited - let's roll!

1 comment:

Kim said...

"Opportunity does not knock. It presents itself when you beat down the door."-Kyle Chandler
Congratulations!!! Well-deserved. You will be awesome.