I have a new mantra. You guessed “Build a bridge and get over it.” After nearly 3 years in the Greater Tri-State Area (GTSA), I thought my luck would change, I would catch a break, or have something go my way. It hasn’t happened yet, but I’m going to “Build a bridge and get over it!”
Here’s how it breaks down. Sometime early last year, Husband gets a call from a colleague. The colleague says, “Hey, would you like to be my guy when the position comes open in another state? You won’t even have to apply, we’ll just move you.” Husband, trying not to sound overly excited replies, “Have you been talking to my wife? I would love it if you could make that happen.”
With this news, I mentally checked out of the GTSA. Case in point: I didn’t register Bruce for school the next year. I signed up to lead music (ME – MUSIC) at Bible School. I thought I’d volunteer and then beg someone to take it on as the moving truck pulled out of town. I didn’t worry about how I was going to baby proof anything. Reed wouldn’t be crawling or walking in this house. I began seriously house hunting in the new city. I contacted realtors and everything! I didn’t worry about not running my Jazzercise class according to all the rules. If they questioned me I’d just let them know I was on my way out.
Well as it turns out, the well meaning colleague spoke too soon and over-promised. The back peddling began almost immediately. Not only did he have to apply for the transfer, he didn’t get it. There was nothing malicious going on, no ulterior motives. The dollars and cents of it all wouldn’t work.I was crushed, but cannot say that I was surprised. We cried in our beer (literally) for a couple of days and then rallied. I vowed to “Build a bridge and get over it!”
We decided to put the house on the market and find one that suits our needs better. Begin again here in the GTSA. But- and I need a mathematician with charts to explain this -the dollars and cents of it wouldn’t work AGAIN. Once again I’m forced to “Build a bridge and get over it!”
In January, this happened. I haven’t gotten over it yet. Apparently the GTSA and people in the community hadn’t either. The Bradley County EMS gave awards to the people who saved his life that day. And of course…. I wasn’t invited to the party…. Angered (to say the least) I questioned someone about this. Yadda, yadda, yadda, excuses and excuses. “The YMCA didn’t even know they were coming that day and time.” I would have been honored to publically thank the people who acted so quickly and appropriately. I certainly didn’t. All I did was call for help and become hysterical. I would have loved to speak to Mr. Lusk as I have not since the infamous day. But instead, I come off as a complete ass who couldn’t even bother to show up for a 10 minute ceremony. A COMPLETE AND UTTER ASS!!! I’m still working on this one, but any day now I will “Build a bridge and get over it!”
As if it was a sign, I was reading the paper one Sunday and stumbled upon the perfect job for me. I apply. Apparently interested, they email me for a phone interview. It goes well. I have the “real” interview. It goes even better. I’m asked to come for another interview the following week. That.never.happened… I received the rejection letter today. I wager a good bottle of chardonnay on what happened. How do I know? Because it’s happened previously. This is the second job I haven’t been offered because I don’t know people here in the GTSA! What? Seriously? Yes, to get a job in non-profit you have to have been born here or lived here for at least 20 years. With what they were offering to pay, I would think they’d hire whatever over qualified person they could get – even if she’s not a native. But again, I have to “Build a bridge and get over it!”
So I’ve got a fair number of bridges to build. Better get to it. But with my luck all the supplies will be back ordered or I will require an advanced degree in engineering. Wish me luck!