A while back, we bought Eleanor a copy of “Oh, The Places You’ll Go.” Lately, I am living this:
You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdest wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place.
That’s where I am, The Waiting Place. I landed a couple of interviews early in my job search but didn’t get the jobs. During the past month, I feel as though I’ve been sending cover letters and resumes into a black hole.
I have read all of the articles about being optimistic and empowering myself. I’ve contacted friends and former colleagues for help. I’ve researched companies and tailored my resume to each job. I’ve started learning new skills to make myself more marketable. None of that makes me feel better when I reach the end of another week without a nibble of interest.
When Greg and I moved to Austin, I spent six months looking for a job. Then I took a job that wasn’t a good fit. Then I took another job that wasn’t a good fit. After two years, I landed a job that I really liked. It’s crazy-making to think that I might not land a good job for two years. Or I might land one in two weeks. And we might move within Austin if the commute is a challenge. Or we might move to another city if I find something good elsewhere. Life is simultaneously at a standstill and in chaos.
At the start of my search, I daydreamed about all of the possibilities. Now, it’s like I’ve been rowing in a life raft for three months expecting that I’m about to land someplace great, but I haven’t.
There’s that saying about how life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. I’m not sure how to interpret it. Does it mean that the majority of my life will be lived in this middle ground, where I’m waiting for something to happen? It sure feels that way sometimes. Or does it mean that the most important moments of my life aren’t those that I expect or plan for? All of the above?
The positive of all of this is that I have put more energy into life lately. I’ve played more with the kids because I know that we won’t always have this much time together. I’ve read more books and taken more walks. This introvert even hosted a party for more than 30 people on Halloween. Afterward, Greg said, “Let’s never do that again!” Turns out that it is pretty dangerous to have large packs of children together in that hour or two before the trick-or-treating, what with the light sabers and face paint and reindeer.
I might be merely surviving in the in-between, but at least everyone else is thriving.