I will start by saying that I thought that I had hit the sort of rock bottom that I would hit for my twenties, naivety is beautiful isn't it?
When January started with having to replace not just one tire, but all four tires on my car, I thought "tough battles right off the bat, okay". Then Zuke, my dog, was attacked in February two days before we were due to move from Utah to Wyoming. One emergency vet visit in Utah, "okay that horror is over". Moving day was met with the warning for dangerous incoming winter conditions and while the Subaru collected literal pounds of ice in it's wheel wells and on the hitch, my lap collected my continuous flow of tears. Accomplishing the scariest drive I have ever had the pleasure of enduring, I then became conditioned over the next week due to having to drive a canyon to work daily. Three days into being moved up to Wyoming, another emergency vet visit is required and Zuke's recovery is pushed back by another two weeks while I am discovering that the job I was offered and relocated for, I was not actually being given/trained for.
Coming to this realization, I confront and ask for an explanation upon which I am met with, "well, we can have you work into that position". Slightly dumbfounded by how a business can hire someone into a specific position and then not actually put them in it, I lowered my hours to part time in the hopes that I could find a better job elsewhere. Spinning with no sense of direction after having left a dream job in Utah for a dream location in Wyoming, I took a regrettable position out of panic. By the end of February I had quit my first job. By the first shift of my new one, I had quit my second job. On March 8 I was officially unemployed.
What the fuck was going on.
The day I quit my only job, no longer embarrassed about crying in public, I sobbed while pumping gas into my car in Jackson Facetiming my father. I couldn't believe that I had graduated college and that here I was. The last two years of my degree, I held jobs that pertained to it, until the Fall of 2017 when I changed pace. I had not even tried to look at jobs in my field because I felt like I had dead-ended there too. I've struggled with needing purpose in my work, in that it's hard to settle for just any job at this point (what is this some kind of first world privilege, christ almighty I suck).
My point: I first felt myself letting go of the control over parts of this year (already) on the 45 minute long drives that I was doing twice a day to and from work. It was a surrender, a hand over of "I'm not doing this right so help me" type of feeling. It's crippling in that it makes you feel so weak and vulnerable. Strong descriptors but that was the genuine overtone of accepting that maybe this was not my time to be here, that maybe I had rushed this, and that maybe it was time to really, critically analyze myself and what I wanted in life. There's been comfort in having the time to spend on resumes, cover letters, and searching out new jobs simply because I'm obsessed with watching my dog grow and interact; I'm relishing in the time that I have now, knowing that the changes that I want for us will be none other than big.
Wish us luck.