You guys, if 2014 was a hot dude, he’d be goosing me and I’d be giggling. I think this is my year.
I’m not even going to knock wood because I’ve stumbled upon a little liberating secret: realistic expectations are only slightly better than no expectations, and neither will break my heart if they are had but not met.
I lost my job last week. But wait, wait, it’s not as tragic as it would seem! Honestly, it was a tremendous relief and by about the first two sentences out of my boss’s mouth, it felt like the weight of the world had flown off my shoulders and I could breathe for the first time in nine months. I flirted with leaving for a while and it either got back to them or they made an expert guess. Either way, in the most honest sense, we were not a good fit for one another. Plain and simple, no harm no foul. Someone, somewhere, can do the job I was doing there and probably as well if not better, but it will have to be someone who is blended into their culture (or family, even) in ways I could never be. You might say that the expectations were too high on both sides, it was never going to work without extreme disappointment because neither of us was willing to settle for what the other was doing. They were extremely complimentary and assured me good recommendations and accolades if asked, and offered to help if I needed it. I don’t, but thanks.
Working connections, as I do and have no shame in it, I reached out to a few friends in the business side of the industry and one came through for me. I had an amazing interview today and have a follow up on Friday. In speaking with this new chef, we talked about needing creative outlets in our work lest we become really, really cranky people. He laughed and agreed, we verbally high fived several times and I left feeling incredibly confident. I am, he says, one of a few candidates but I gotta tell you, by the time he was giving me a detailed tour of the kitchen and showing me the second walk-in cooler, I was feeling pretty good about it all. And honestly, even if this doesn’t pan out just the conversation alone really helped crystallize what I want to do now that I’ve spent some time in this particular niche of the industry.
There’s such a need for it, and if five years ago you would have used the words “Media Marketing Manager” to describe a position I’d hold, I would have rolled my eyes and walked away from you. “What a bullshit job!” I’d have said. But, in the year 2014, it’s not at all. People want to see what’s going on in all those closed kitchens, and chefs want to talk but don’t know how. Enter: this lady. And I can now see how truly needed it is, after working for people who resisted it every step of the way because they were so affixed to the older school ways of doing things. I’m upset to think of what’s becoming of my carefully-crafted social network now that it’s been left sitting in the middle of the floor sad and alone… poor little guys. I feel like I should say, while I have you here, that it’s very easy to jump at the first thing when you’re in an “unideal” situation, but this is not that. I had an interview a while ago and it was clear within minutes that it definitely would not work out between us. I frankly should have just stood up and walked out after the initial handshake but I still fear what people will think of me and that’s just plain rude anyway. This opportunity feels like something I’d have personally crafted had someone asked me what I want before going in. That’s a mighty big biggie, especially for me.
Add to that pile of great stuff one tall, awesome drink of water who wants to spend a bunch of time with me and who I am giddy at the idea of seeing in a mere 14 hours and I can honestly say that so far, 2014 is not letting me down in the least. I’m patient for the reveal of the job that comes my way, if this isn’t it, especially to see what the salary will be so I can resume the apartment search but for now I have laundry all of ten feet from my bedroom door, a Trader Joe’s pretty close to home, heat, light, and a giant bathtub. Now if I can just get away from the Diversey bus, I’ll go buy that lottery ticket…