As I type, I'm sitting in my living room, eating breakfast (coffee and an English muffin if you were wondering), and watching my cats pounce each other on the other side of the room. I could have written this exact sentence a year ago today, but it would have been about a different living room, different cats. The fact is, in the last year, everything in my life has changed.
It's funny how we think we have everything figured out. When I graduated from my M.A. program, I would have told you with almost certainty that I was going to get a PhD in Folklore and Anthropology and teach. Then, fortunately, I went to visit the University where I planned to get said degree. My visit proved to me that I didn't want to be in that place for five or more years, that I wouldn't be happy there. I came home having no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Honestly, I spiraled into a quarter-life crisis pretty quickly. I had been in college since the age of 17 and working since the age of 14, taking jobs in college and in the summers (even though my parents told me I didn't have to) just to keep from getting bored and to feel productive. At one point during my Master's work, I was going to class full time (9 credit hours in grad school) and working 3 part-time jobs. Suddenly, I was done with school and unemployed... right in the middle of one of the crappiest job markets our nation has ever experienced. And this is where my daddy came to my rescue.
I was lying in my room, complaining to him about where I felt my life was going (nowhere) and my current level of employment (un-) when he offered me a job working for him. It wasn't enough work/pay for me to move out on my own, but it was a job. Part-time, 10$ an hour, it still gave me something to do. It gave me a lot of flexibility that other jobs would not. And bonus, I got to travel with him, meaning that I spent nearly two weeks last December on the west coast. The thing was, I liked the job, but I knew I would never love it. My dad gets excited about the work he does. He enjoys hitting the office most days. I wanted that, and I knew I would never get that with his company.
And then came Jeremiah.
It was less than a month after getting back from California that I began exchanging emails with someone I (*gulp*) met on match.com. Neither of us was really there looking for love... or in any way expecting it. I had gotten on to see a friend's profile (you have to have your own to do so); he had been stuck on night shifts for nearly a year and found himself bored out of his mind most nights (in other words he wanted someone to talk with). And we found each other. Truth is, I had never met someone with whom I had so much in common. Within weeks, we met. A few weeks later, we were dating. It only took a few months before he asked me to marry him, and I said yes.
My job took a back-burner while I spent my time planning a wedding much bigger than I ever wanted (thanks mom). I spent less and less time working with my dad and more time picking out linens and designing favors. After I got married and tried to jump back into my job, I realized that there really wasn't much for me to do. The bulk of my job last year was spent creating and organizing a client database, and that was done. What was left took less than 10 hours a week most of the time. I began to feel a little like a burden. Sure, I cooked and took care of things at home, but I have never pictured myself as a "housewife." Again, I found myself not really knowing what to do with myself.
Then, a few days ago, a friend of my mother posed a job offer. Executive assistant. 11.00 an hour. Near full time. I'm supposed to meet with him later today to get the ball rolling. I'm really excited about it, to be honest. It's still not my dream job, but it will do amazing things for my resume. Plus, really, I can still work with my dad when he needs the help.
So, again, sitting on my couch, done eating breakfast, still waiting for the phone to ring.
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