What I Learned This Summer - Part Four

Sometimes Stating the Obvious Really is Helpful. Oh, and, Feng Shui Totally Works:

I've been griping about my job for some time now. Nothing official, just usually over cocktails or coffee or when some unsuspecting person asks "how's work?" Anyway... a friend sent me a link to one of those personality tests (kind of Myers Briggs-ish, if you're familiar with that sort of thing) and at the end of it you could see what jobs were well-suited for your personality type.

The result: Apparently I'm an empathetic, critically-thinking, introvert who is well-suited for a job in natural resource education. (Or a lawyer or a computer programmer, but neither of those things are going to happen...)

Good. To. Know.

At first I got a big kick out of it, but then it was kind of comforting to know that despite all of the worrying and whining and feeling like I'm wandering aimlessly all of the time, I probably am on the right track. I just need a better train compartment.

Or something else in that metaphor that makes sense....

So I decided to say so. Very officially and out loud. With feeling. And then I felt bad for doing so because, you know, I do have a job already whereas many of my friends do not - or did not for a brief time. But I said it and it was out there.

I also said this around the time that my house was finally being put back together and was once again livable - briefly a couple of unfortunate shades of paint, but that's been fixed now too. And I'm a firm believer in Feng Shui. That disordered and cluttered homes make for a disordered and cluttered lives. Now, I am very messy. I don't want to be, but I am. But I'm a highly organized messy and even in my messiness, one can see that there is usually a rhyme and a reason and there's good flow. Or chi, if you will. And my house, for like a year, has had some seriously bad chi issues.

As I recall, a friend took to calling it Shawshank...

But as soon as there was a turning point in the chaos at the blueberry cottage, there seemed to be a turning point in me. And so with the confidence that only comes with new drywall, apparently, I declared my allegiance to this current job over. Finito. I am done. I won't be leaving until something appropriate comes along, but I felt the need to announce it officially to the universe.

And you know what, within a couple of days I'd sent a little email to a professor at a local university about their new graduate school program in sustainability. You know, just to ask a couple of questions. A few days later I'd met with said professor and now it looks like I may be going back to graduate school in the spring.

Then, last week, two friends of mine had a conversation about life and jobs and such and my name was mentioned as a possible person for a project one of them was working on and a day later I'd sent in a resume and some sample work and now I may, possibly, if it all works out, have a new job. Doing what might be the most perfect job for me. Maybe. Possibly. If it all works out.

I'm trying so hard not to get my hopes up and saying that, worst-case-scenario, it's still a sign that this is the right move for me and that there are good options out there and I just need to be patient.

Patient. While I'm obsessively checking my email and cell phone like some girl pathetically waiting for some boy to call her. Patient.

Anyway... when I thought more about it, it seems as though that there are a lot of people around me who've taken a big leap of faith this summer. Much bigger than the one I've taken. They've lost their jobs and come out of it with the inspiration to be teachers. Or quit their jobs to start their own business doing something they love. Or had a baby. Or decided to adopt a baby. Or, like my niece - who is a baby - decided one day that walking might be a fun thing to try. Crazy stuff.

So it's been a big summer of change all around. And it can't just be my new drywall that did it. Somewhere there's some bigger chi at work out there. I don't care, as long as it keeps stirring up good stuff well into the fall.

Candy Corn is a Gateway Drug. And Other Weekend Epiphanies...

My Weekend:

Football. It wasn't enough that our game wasn't on national TV like it normally is/should be, or that we had to play the "brunch game" at 11:30 (How can you be expected to get a respectable amount of tailgating accomplished before kick-off?). But then our defense and special teams had to just lay on the field like roadkill. Grrrr... At church on Sunday one of my favorite people (Ned) and I had a heart-to-heart about the state of Volunteer football ('cause that's what you talk about in church on Sunday in the South) and he articulated perfectly what my subconscious has known for a while:

Good-hearted, honest, loyal, kind, supportive people don't always make the best coaches.

It breaks my big orange heart, but it's true. I LOVE Phil Fulmer. There's no better example of a Tennessee Volunteer. He LOVES our state, our school, our team and each and every one of those players and coaches like they're his brothers and his kids. But lately it seems that love and devotion have become blinders, and promoting too much from within, being too slack with young guys who need more discipline, and sticking too much with tradition instead of trying new things on the field, have started to take it's toll. To every yin there's a yang and we seem to have reached the yang portion of the program. I'm not saying that we need to fire Phil and hire some vile, disgusting, obnoxious, rude, tantrum-throwing, snake-in-the-grass just because they win football games (yeah, that's right, I'm lookin' at you, Visor Boy). But something needs to change.

As you could imagine, about 30 seconds after the clock ran down, I needed an outlet for my misery that didn't involve chocolate, martinis, pasta, heroine or expensive shoes. So my SIL and I found salvation at the next best thing...

Target. Why? Because there were a lot of household items that I needed? No. Because - as all good people know - when the world is crazy and out of control and doesn't make any sense, you go where everything is clean and orderly and pretty and affordable. I've joked before that if I had all the time and money in the world I would go back to school to get a degree in film and my first student film would be a remake of Breakfast at Tiffany's titled, Diet Coke at Target.

"The only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there."
- Holly Golightly

So, that's not really a revelation from this weekend, but I'm right, no? We pushed our happy little red cart around until I felt better and along the way a few happy items happened to fall in said little red cart: adorable black tweed ballet flats, a pre-treatment stain stick thingy, dog treats, cereal, a frozen pizza, yogurt, diet coke (duh) and yet another bag of...

Candy Corn. Ahhh candy corn. I don't really even like candy (all other dessert-related items, yes, but sugary candy, not so much). Like crisp, cool air, changing leaves and college football, those cute little striped kernels are a sign of fall, my favorite season. But, alas, they are not without a dark side. I was snacking on candy corn Sunday evening while organizing kitchen cabinets and with every bite I slowly started to feel that sense of dread. You could almost hear the screeching of the violins from Psycho tuning up in the background... that impending anxiety... THE HOLIDAYS. And like candy corn, I love the holidays, but they too have a dark side. There's so many things to stress about - money, travel, shopping, decorating, entertaining, family drama, AND ESPECIALLY food. And that's when it hit me -

It all starts with the damn candy corn.

Those tiny little innocuous bits of sugary autumn goodness are fine, but all they do is give you the courage to move on to the seemingly innocuous, but actually evil, little individually wrapped trick-or-treat candy bars. And that leads to:

Thanksgiving and stuffing and casseroles and pumpkin pie and apple cobbler because what? They're FRUIT! And VEGETABLES! What's the big deal? Look - you can even see their pictures on the food pyramid. How bad could they be?!? So now you're emboldened and ready for:

Christmas. You've already been so good only eating tiny candy bars and fruits and vegetables that you eat the cookies and cake and other things you couldn't otherwise justify. Besides, if all else fails, you just have to ask,"WWJD"?!? Because I tell you what he would do - it's his birthday! He'd eat the cake. And before the sugar high can wear off, there's:

New Year's Eve. Otherwise Dick Clark would have been out of a job a long time ago because everyone would be too depressed to leave the house. But we're not done yet. You can't have sugary without salty, so to cap off the holiday season, God gives us the first of two National Observances of Salt:

New Year's Day College Football Bowl Games (and then later the Super Bowl). Chips and dip and laying on the couch, taking the stress of the last few weeks out on referees and the teams that are keeping your team down in the BCS poll. Good times.

Is there a Halloween Candy Wing at Betty Ford?