Order My Steps: Chronicles of a Deliberator, career edition

In his heart a man plans his course,but the LORD determines his steps. (Proverbs 16:9)

4/5/17, Wednesday:

Current mood:

It has been a wild 30 hours.

I contacted the temp agency about 4 weeks ago, thinking I'd just get my feet wet and fill out some paperwork to get the ball rolling. When asked for a potential start date, I offered early June, after Memorial Day. Later, I decided that I could, perhaps, start as early as May 9. But perhaps that was rash...

I am addicted to plans. This is a common theme of my blogs of old, and it seems my addiction has not waned significantly. If I have elected to buy a taco at the local taquería rather than Taco Bell, you'd best not ask me to go to Taco Bell within 60 minutes of lunch time (quite dramatic using such a huge decision, I know). So going from a phone call at 12:20pm in my car in the parking lot, to an afternoon of quiet contemplation and evening of agonizing option-weighing, to a morning email requesting a meeting with my supervisor in 24 hours (which turned to 6 hours - evidence of the super supervisory staff I work with), to a 2:00pm "I don't want to leave, but I do want to go" chat, to a "Why sure, I'll move in 4 weeks to a random town in the middle of Wisconsin to work with people I've never met" phone call at 3:00pm was a little overwhelming for a 30 hour period.

Gulp.

This has been the second-hardest breakup I've ever gone through.

I REALLY like where I work. Who I work with. The facility. The management. The organization and its vision.
The one thing missing? What I do when I'm not working.
I clock out to go home and eat and sleep. Then wake up and repeat the process. Work weeks are simply bridges between weekend adventures, which more often than not are outside of this lakeshore burough. When the mirror stops me and bids me look beyond face and hair, I shake with fear and excitement to ponder my deep-seated dreams: plans to travel the world; to meet new people and learn new things; to use my knowledge and skills to make the world a better place. I promised myself upon graduation that I would not simply keep a job because it was comfortable, but to keep in mind my aspirations - to try travel PT, to work toward a PT teaching career, to abandon the timeclock and volunteer as a PT for high-need areas (scariest of all!!).

At the meeting that I was afforded only 6 hours to dread (thank you, Jesus!), my supervisor was very supportive and complimentary, offering her well-wishes and encouragement while sharing her disappointment. I sweated through some layers of clothing and repeatedly fought the urge to apologize throughout our meeting (looking back, I'm not entirely sure I didn't apologize. Multiple times). And now, 8 hours later, there is still a rock in the pit of my stomach. A niggling notion that I've made an irreversible mistake, not just a decision.
But maybe that's just the taco.




4/6/17, Thursday:

AM: When you wish upon a star... prepare yourself to be strapped into a rocket and someone to press the launch button.

Early PM: WHAT HAVE I DONE?!?

Later PM: I teared a little - just enough to smear vision, no wavery bubbles or drippy cheek streaks. (Thanks a lot, Nallely)

Late late PM (well, 8:45p is late, right?): I'm moving into the mourning phase. Things always look rosiest when viewed in a rearview mirror. Why did I choose to leave a place I know, people I like, a routine I've shaped and learned and earned? Who made me do this?

I cannot innumerate the many times I've had to explain to patients that a stretching pain is positive pain; a "hurts so good" pain; a do-this-now-to-avoid-worse-pain-later; something necessary to improve.
I have no idea how I'd handle being fired from a job. This resignation business has left me emotionally and physically drained.

The Lord said to Abram, "Leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you." (Gen 12:1)
He's telling me to stretch...but it hurts.


4/7/17, Friday: (I am 28 1/2 today. Quarter-life crisis?)

AM: "Let your faith be bigger than your fears." (Amanda Noelle)

PM: So. Much. Paperwork.

Late PM: You know how it is when grocery shopping and trying to be eco-conscious but you forgot your reusable bags so you opt for the paper bags so you can recycle but you end up putting the milk on the bottom of the bag because it's heavy but it's also July and hot and humid and the condensation seeps through the bag but the bag only chooses to blow its bottom in the 1 foot gap between your cart and your car, ricocheting between both between landing on the pavement and bursting open in order to soak the rest of your groceries?
Yeah. That's how life feels right now.

Google result for "ripped bag". Hahaha.

I thought I had a pretty good routine going. I'd finally framed and hung the last of my Kenya curios last week (I was in Kenya in 2010, for those who weren't counting). I'd organized my bookshelves and my things all had places to belong. I'd even mopped all the floors (believe me, wouldn't have don't that had I known I'd be moving the furniture out in 3 weeks). Life was tucked away in a perfectly rectangular paper bag (with handles! Deluxe, I know). But I knew the milk was sweating, so I didn't want to grab the handles - because What If?
What If I had to adjust? To deal with the unexpected? What If I had to uproot, upturn, upheave? What If I didn't know exactly what tomorrow held, exactly the route I'll take to work, who will tell me jokes at lunch, exactly where the ultrasound gel is? What If I get to church and no one says hello? What If I walk into my currently undetermined living space (don't ask, I'll freak) and want to run back out again to find something familiar?

Let your faith be bigger than your fears.


Later late pm: God, do you want me to be alone?? Why am I leaving people I know and enjoy to move to a place where I know no one?
     I want you to know what it is to rely on Me. Fully, completely, unabashedly, unreservedly.


Late late PM: Current mood:

4/8/17, Sabbath:
My church family is wonderful. And they make me very sad to leave. So many cheering conversations today! Topped with enchiladas and flan and a hike in the breeze.
Can I take you all with me?

4/9/17, Sunday:
A BEAUTIFUL Sunday morning spent exploring a lake by kayak. And Jess not spilling the beans. Chicken Jess. Sounds like an upcoming single...
Why yes, I am an up and coming single. Who doesn't like saying goodbye.

4/10/17, Monday:
Today was hard. I told my Monday coworkers that I am leaving in 3 weeks. *sigh*
They were supportive. And sad. Just what I'd want my coworkers to be...which makes them great. Which makes them harder to leave. Dagnabit.
Stop being so awesome, people!


PM: Current mood:

I am sick, and I am tired, and I am sad. So I am especially irritated to have submitted my address, date of birth, social security number, license number, photo, passport, signature, resume, and firstborn child 259 times (give or take 17).
Why can't you all just ask once??


4/11/17, Tuesday:
All my coworkers now know that I'm leaving them. I've only received one item of "hate" mail (which was really love mail in disguise - at least that's what I told myself when I saw the skull and crossbones).
Ho-hum.

I bought more stackable clear rubbermaid totes for packing. Ugh.
Still no housing. Car-camping is becoming a more viable option. Summer is coming, so frostbite risk is lower (though not entirely absent - this is Wisconsin, after all).


4/12/17, Wednesday: (3 weeks to D-Day)
There is some peace. Between the signatures and resumes and phone calls and late nights, some peace.
A reassurance that however scary or rapid or stretching this decision, it is not regretted. My heart aches to leave, but past circumstance serves as a reminder that a friendship network ever grows and matures and fulfills.

Thank you, Manitowoc, for growing me, stretching me, shaping me. The last thing I ask of you? Remind my colleagues, friends, neighbors that Manitowoc is not their home, just as it is not mine.

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. (Col 3:1-2)

Lovely Manitowoc, promise me I'll see my friends again - way beyond the blue. 

What a reunion!!