The Job

The first Thursday in August, I saw the posting.

The one for the job I had just decided (with out a doubt) I didn't want right now. At that moment I knew that if I applied, I would get it. My stomach was sick with fear. But why would I even apply? We had just decided that another year or two at home was the logical and best choice for our family. Still, I found myself asking Phil what he thought and I found myself agreeing with him when he said I should go for it.

All through the process of digging out my 12 year old resume and scanning my brain for people to fill my references, I kept telling myself..."I'm probably just supposed to do this to go through the application process. It's been on the back burner (ok, lets face it...it hasn't even been on the stove) for so long, I should really be better prepared." But deep in my toes, hidden behind well established self doubt, I knew that wasn't all, I knew I would get the job.

I filled a page with old college achievements and fancy synonyms for "stay at home mom." I used the word 'perspicacity' and hoped they wouldn't make me pronounce it in the interview....but no worries, I kept telling myself, there's no way I'll get an interview. But I knew I would, and I did.

Four days later I was digging through my closet for something besides jeans or my Sunday best.  At all costs I avoided my dress pants from 12 years ago that had for some reason managed to stay hanging in my closet. My last interview was a disaster, my only goal for this one was to not lock my keys in the car or to have an infant in tow who would, in the middle of question I didn't understand, throw up on my resume. That to me would be success. The rest didn't really matter because I didn't really want the job right now anyway. I had a stay at home plan...with details, all lined out for the next two years.

They gave me the job before I left the building. I tried to be shocked, but I knew it would happen. Not because I have all this confidence in myself, because I don't.  I just knew.

The whole time my mind said no, but my body just went ahead anyway. It was one of the scariest and peaceful processes I've been through. Almost three months later it finally seems like this might work. Even in the days that I break because I can't hold it all and the guilt I feel as dropped balls go bouncing out of reach makes me question where I stand...I still have the strangest peace. I know that the uncontrollable is really under perfect control and that's all I need.

I just know.