For the past two weeks, I've been totally lost. Totally consumed by my own thoughts and anxieties, and feeling generally disconnected. All of this because I interviewed for a full-time job. I have not—in over 12 years—even considered working full time. I quit my last job when I was 25 and have been working for myself ever since. I never thought I would work (all day) for someone else again and I even publicly vowed not to. This is not because I am independently wealthy. It is actually most certainly the opposite. It's just that a full-time job has always felt like a prison sentence to me so I've done everything humanly possible to avoid one.
I should first say that I did not get the job. I did get close, but the interview process alone sent me reeling. Even though it was a job that I was really interested in, I had to work tremendously hard to accept the fact that I might be working outside of our home. Without trying, I started going to bed earlier at night, getting ready for an early workday, I guess. In the classroom last week, I tried to forget that I might not be able to volunteer anymore. I had a pit in my stomach as I pictured myself at work while the kids got ready for school. A pit in my stomach imagining them walking to school without me. I couldn't see how I'd survive without the day-to-day connections I have with them throughout the day. I wasn't ready, and I wasn't sure they were either.
But I managed to do something I don't usually do. I pushed my fears aside. This time I trusted that I would know what to do when the time came. I believed that I'd make it work somehow. I looked at all of the great things this job would offer me, both creatively and personally (not to mention financially), and tried not to dwell on the things that I would I have to give up. I tentatively walked the tightrope and all I could do then was wait.
And then I didn't get the job. To be honest, after the excitement of the interview process was over and I got back to my regular life, I was so very relieved. There was a part of me that wanted the job. A part of me was excited to work with other designers again and excited for the challenge of learning something new. But, not surprisingly, there was a huge part of me that wasn't.
It took me a few days to get back into my routine. It was like I had left in the middle of something and I couldn't remember where I was. What was I supposed to be doing? What was everyone up to while I was away? I couldn't snap out of my daze until last weekend. Without thinking about it, I started making a dress that I've been wanting to make for months. And who knew that that one simple, familiar act would bring me back. And I'm so, so glad to be here.
