Employed aka Lucky Coin, part 2

When Nathaniel and I decided to move to Oklahoma we didn't know what we were doing. All we knew was that it felt right. After packing up a moving van with our few possessions, we hit the road with high hopes and a small savings in our bank account.

It didn't take long for us to begin the dreaded job search. Being away from our family and friends for the first time as a married couple made us nervous. We knew our savings wouldn't last forever, and we both felt a need to prove it to ourselves and others that we could "make it" -- that the feeling that had pushed us to take a chance was right.

Thankfully, Nathaniel found a job right away. But I didn't. I was left searching and questioning myself -- my goals, my talents, my abilities, my educational and professional path. I was applying and interviewing but wasn't seeing any results. There was one day where I couldn't stop crying. I felt defeated. I felt worthless.

An old drawing. It's supposed to be a self-portrait reminiscent of the Sistine Chapel's Libyan Sibyl.

Soon afterwards I started working 10 hours a week at an elementary school doing paper work. It was simple, but it instantly boosted my spirits. I felt needed. I felt helpful. My self-worth was restored as I worked and realized I had skills I could use to serve others. I stopped worrying about what others would think about me having a college degree but no solid job. I stopped fearing the ridiculous need to be perfect. Instead, I started to realize I had little control over my ability to get a job and should stop stressing about it.

And then things fell into place.

A position opened up at the local newspaper and I quickly jumped at the chance to apply. I emailed my resume and samples of my work to an email address that I'm sure turned out to be a black hole. A few days later, Nathaniel met someone who knew someone who offered to hand-deliver my resume to the editor's desk. I took him up on the offer.

A few days later I got a call from the editor of the paper requesting an interview. I interviewed. It was awesome. The editor told me they were working out the budget and would call me in a few days when they had things sorted out. A week came and went. And then two more. Still no call. I had mentally moved on.

I woke up last Wednesday to prepare for an interview. As I was getting dressed my phone rang and I let it roll over to voicemail. When I heard the recorded voice streaming from my phone, my heart both sunk and lept at the same time -- the editor had called. She wanted to apologize everything had taken so long. She wanted to know if I was still looking for a job.

And all I could think was: is this real life? Is this actually happening? Am I about to become a real-life, bonafide journalist?

The answer that came was: yes. It's happening. You're a journalist.

Here's to my lucky coin and becoming a court reporter. Wish me luck.

Always,

P.S.
This is me right now...real talk: