I’m awake early, thanks to my kitties, and decided it was time to write about this strange and exciting experience.
For anyone that has either been reading my blog for years or knows me closely, it’s known that I’ve struggled to find my place in the work world. Of all the places I’ve worked, the environmental quality state agency was the best, but that was due to all of the great people I worked with and the job itself was at best just “good”. I counted myself as happy because of that and I will always hold them in a sweet spot in my heart and mind.
This last year has been hard. The long COVID impacted me in so many ways, but perhaps the biggest difficulty I had was dealing with my inattentive ADHD in the midst of a pandemic where work supports were distant and not as immediate. That is a MASSIVE over-simplification of what I went through and when you add the final killing blow – literally a blow! – called a concussion? Well, ultimately that’s why I had to leave that job.
I had no idea how bad I was doing until the anxiety that fueled my performance at DEQ stopped and I was left with impairment, as well as a greater understanding of how much I was burning out my body trying to cope with everything. My weight was climbing, my health in general was declining, and my mental health was taking a continuous beating.
I truly believe that quitting to recover my health was the best choice I’ve made in decades. I was destroying myself and only sheer stubborn will-power had kept me going, until even that was gone.
My curiosity? Burned out. My hopes and dreams? They were still trying to break through. I would have made a kick-ass counselor. I know that all the way through to my bones. If I weren’t facing the financial mountain impasse, I think I could have survived it with assistance from the school’s disability office. Would I have burned myself out again? Hmm, yeah… probably.
As I explored the boundaries of my healthy abilities that remained during my time off work, I realized, piece by piece, that certain things are no longer on the books for me. It was bad enough that I honestly feared I was headed for disability and didn’t think I’d ever recover.
I was wrong. Actually, I was wrong in the best possible way. I told my dear friend, HH, that I thought my working full-time was done… that “ship had sailed,” and for good reason. I was having speech issues, memory and cognition issues, and I couldn’t sustain attention long enough to read. To lose reading was to lose a part of my core self-identity and it was painful.
Thankfully I was in post-concussion rehab therapy and physical therapy. I don’t think there are words to express how freaking grateful I am that I got set up with those therapies. It wasn’t just the skills and exercises I was taught. It was the care, guidance, and compassion both therapists gave me at what felt like the worst possible time in my world.
Let’s be clear, though: All the rehab therapies in the world would NOT have worked if I had still been working. I have destroyed my credit, lived on my mother’s largesse, and depended upon the public safety net (as well as the amazing help my other family members and friends have provided to me) in order to get to this point where I actually KNEW, 100%, that I was ready to return to work and that I was healed enough to do it in the right way.
Without the emergency housing assistance due to COVID, the monthly child tax credits from the feds, food stamps, and Medicaid, as well as selling my plasma and the super assistance from my credit union, I would not have made it. The odds of all of that being in place at exactly the right timing is unreal. Absent the housing support, I have no idea what would have happened. Even working just enough to pay rent would have been too much when I was at the worst of it.
Fast forward to October when I knew I was doing better, but took on the interesting part-time job doing customer service interviews. If they had been organized and I had been further down the path of healing? I might be there, working the grind and taking in the negativity of the people we had to call. I’m good at working with people but frankly, especially these days, people have no filter left with regard to common decency. In looking back on it now, I think it would have set me back.
I made the right call at the time to finish the memory and cognitive therapy first. At the time I was seriously worried that I was never going to fully recover. And maybe there is still some lingering long-term impact, but I like to think that I’m doing so much better now that it’s almost negligible. Working again will put that theory to the test.
In the interim, I started Dumpster Fire Recipes, which is slow going, but I’m more and more finding my groove in the kitchen, so I think it will translate into good writing on that blog.
I “graduated” from my post-concussion therapy, was assessed as “normal functioning” for my age (HA!!) and I crossed the finish line enough with my brain functioning that I am able to do some reading and I’m ready to work again.
That brings us to now, where my housing assistance is running out, my help from my family was enough of a boost to help Oldest as we got her on to public support, and I am applying – in earnest – for full-time work.
And poof. No responses except no’s, but I wasn’t willing to stop trying and I’m applying to all the good positions being posted in my field of grants. Cut to last week and there was this very plain Jane job posting with a private business. I’ve read that posting over and over and can’t begin to tell you why I applied for something that is part-time, relatively low paying, and in office support – which I had sworn I wouldn’t do again.
But I applied for it. Immediately Indeed bounced back this thing that the employer wanted candidates to do… record answers verbally for a skills inventory. I didn’t want to do it and so being good old me, I procrastinated but planned to do it on Friday (had applied on Wednesday). Went to breakfast with mum on Friday, then got home to a message from the owner of the business apologizing for short notice and asking to interview me for 15 minutes that day.
I enthusiastically sent back a yes and dressed the top part of myself for the video interview (which still makes me laugh my ass off when I think about my stretch pants and fuzzy socks on the bottom half of me).
It was AMAZING. Fifteen minutes can be life-changing. We had this great rapport and a very good, frank discussion about what I bring to the table, as well as what they are all about. He ended the way too brief discussion noting that I was on the short list and that at that time I was the top candidate. NO ONE DOES THAT!
I left that brief interview excited about work in a way that I had not felt for a long time. It was crystal clear to me that this small position was going to be a huge opportunity and dammit, I wanted it.
This meant I needed to be asked back for the face-to-face interview, so I waited and watched my messages, hoping. And while I was waiting, I started digging and researching into the software systems they are using. I set up the groundwork to learn in advance of any interviews we might have. When I did get the interview request, set for the Monday after our Friday first meet, I sent a solid response that yes, the time/date worked. Then I attached my graduate transcript to show exactly why my MPA is so close to an MBA, plus I indicated that I was already digging into the systems they used.
I worried, slightly, that I was going to overwhelm them by showing them how interested I am. The laws of negotiation tell us that we want to hold back showing our hand so we can get what we want, but my instincts told me that I wanted to stand out and show that I am dead serious about this.
Cut to yesterday… Monday… and the interview.
Both owners are great. I had spoken to the one on Friday, but now I got to meet them both. I was dressed professionally, thanks to the guidance of HH, so I felt good and confident. It was less of an interview and more of a great meeting of minds, like three friends meeting and talking about the business. Here is where language is failing me. I want to write about how incredible it was to meet two guys (best friends) who share my curiosity and enthusiasm for figuring out things. I put things out there to test them because being the mom of two transgender kids means safety-checking the people I will be working with, especially when it will be such a small, tight-knit team. They freaking passed with flying colors.
Dammit. I’m tearing up. The opportunity is everything I was hoping it would be AND it allows me to work part-time to begin. It allows me to be a part of building something cool and working with people that groove on the same beat, if a bit differently. They are both dads and nerds and smart and clearly caring people. Their reviews by clients are wonderful.
They are experienced businessmen who have long-term success (which is supported by the reviews going back YEARS) and they are following this dream with this more niche business, which by the way, is good timing for what is happening here in our city and area.
My friend, DM, told me to just be myself going in to the interview, so that is exactly what I did. I made sure they know who I am and what I’m about. And they accepted me.
I’m still blown away by what this opportunity is and what it could mean for me and my kids long-term.
I could be a part of something that is hard work and fun and financially changes my life over the long-term.
Yeah. All from this funny little employment ad on Indeed that I would have normally just passed by.
I can’t explain it. Serendipity? But now I have to hold on to the end of the week and hear their final decision on who they will hire. Will it be me? Frankly, I’ll be stunned if they don’t hire me, but you just never know. I’ve been this close before and had things shot down. I’m not really a betting woman, but if I were in a game right now, I’d go all-in that they will hire me.
And damn. I’m ready to do this.
Moonfire
Ramblings of a Wild for Words Woman 