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September 1, 2016 § 4 Comments
This morning I was recklessly hopefully, almost obnoxiously joyful as I woke to a personal milestone. Today marked the first time in over sixteen years I was invited to interview for a job I desperately want.
If I am painfully honest, I had already choreographed my celebration; contrived in photographs and status updates how I might announce my news. It felt anticlimactic to return home without word, to unsheathe my legs of the nylons and pristine ballet flats that are in such sharp contrast to my more typical leisurely attire. Except, I’m a stubbornly hopeful person.
Today I interviewed for a job I cannot imagine loosing. There were so many lovely indicators that the universe had aligned to draft me for this calling. My birthdate stamped on the post where I parked. My son’s birthdate engraved against the brass plate of an antique bench sitting in the foyer. Even the greeting card that proclaimed “you’re hired” as it sat misshelved among birthday cards as I ran an errand post-interview.
There’s something tragically fearful in hiding our hopes, we unwittingly undermine the joy that comes from wearing our vulnerability where other’s may witness our courage.
I may not get this job. The very thought is heartbreaking for its impossibility. So, instead, I’m celebrating taking chances and leaping joyfully toward something new. Whole heart, fingers crossed, knock-on-wood hopeful.
scribblechic 
Yayyyy! Regardless!!! 😀
Thanks, Mark!
Wishing you good luck.
Thanks, Andy!