OK... you know what's next and I didn't say that. And I won't say it precipitously, never fear. But there have been new heart breaks at work that just tear me up. The job I didn't get? They offered it to a 25 year old who can't spell. Who...ummm... used to work with me. And today I got a snippy little e-mail about completing some task that had been hers to do. Oh yeah, this is going to go well. How much disappointment, affront, and rejection can I endure? That's apparently not a rhetorical question. Sigh....
But there's this "Andrea returns to the academy" project -to make it sound more lofty than it really is ;) My heart lightens when I start to think about tiny research projects that I could begin. I'm interested in disaster response in fragile states. I'm interested in community change. I'm interested in social justice. I could sit down with someone from Doctors Without Borders, compare them to the Red Cross. (Don't get me started. Just believe me when I tell you that there are important differences.) Maybe I could learn something about establishing an effective response, particularly about disseminating credible information to people in crisis. (Don't get me started. Just believe me when I tell you that believed-information doesn't come from authority figures most of the time.) Maybe I could present at the Bangkok conference next year. Why NOT???? Maybe while I'm that far from home, I could use leftover international connections to see if I could meet Aung San Suu Kyi. (Yes, I know she doesn't live in Bangkok. Work with me here.) Another little project of mine is that I've always wanted to understand how (or if) communities heal from mass shooting kinds of experiences. Unfortunately, I don't have to travel to work on that one.
Seriously, my heart sings. I could get to do this.
Not soon, though. Not full-time, anyway. But I'm on the path. So maybe this job -even with its insults- is the job I need in the short term. I absolutely don't take it home. I don't care enough, truth be told. It pays the bills. It offers me a lot of flexibility in terms of scheduling. Most people, I'm guessing, don't love their jobs. It's a means to an end. I've been blessed up until now; I know that. But there's no harm, necessarily, in sharing the lot of the common man ;) Suck it up. Go to work. Get a paycheck. And let it take you somewhere you want to go.
Maybe I didn't get this new job because it wasn't the job I was meant to have. (Thanks, Lianne, for that insight.) I'm not sure why this message from the universe had to come with SUCH a heavy hand, but for now it's the assumption I'm going to operate from. And in the extra time that not caring all that much creates, I'll work on the stuff that makes me feel light -and powerful at the same time.
Remind me I said this when there are days that make me want to spew disdain, correct spelling, and use my intellect as a weapon.