The call came with about an hour to go before I had to leave to pick the girls up from the camp they’d been attending last week. It was my boss, a truly nice man, who has great business sense – even given what he was about to tell me over the phone.
“I need this to be the last time you come in because we just don’t have the projects to support you right now…”
A little background: I stumbled/lucked into/was blessed with this job nearly 5 years ago when I was a single Mom with two tiny kids who’d been out of the workforce for the previous five years. I wasn’t really qualified for the job, it paid more than most other part time jobs out there, was two miles from my home, and was immensely flexible. Plus, I was paid to be creative. In other words, it was heaven. And I thanked God for it every time I pulled into the parking lot.
When I first started there, my job and my colleagues were a place where I could have adult conversations that were not related to poopy diapers. People knew me for who I was and not just as “Maddie’s Mom” or “Zoe’s Mom.” And I was earning a paycheck that would keep or little family life raft afloat.
Over the years, my work friends were there when we learned that Zoe needed to be gluten free. They laughed with (at?) me when I met a really cute country boy and then fell in love with him. We survived Holiday Parties with the required “factoid” contest, where everyone had to come prepared with facts to stump the rest of the party-goers as well as our share of difficult personalities over the phone. We went through health crises together, celebrated new marriages and births, and said good bye to folks who, for one reason or another, followed new paths.
So now it’s my turn. Sort of. My boss (thankfully) really liked my work and he said they want to bring me back on in a month if all goes well.
Note to self: the words “if all goes well” don’t really pay the bills.
That leads me to my proverbial fork in the road – do I take this opportunity to enjoy a few weeks of summer fun with my girls, finish organizing our home, weed the garden to perfection, train the dog to fetch the newspaper, teach the cat how to hunt spiders, learn how to properly ride a mule, and get our lives into tiptop shape with the hope that the “if” becomes another phone call from my boss to return? Or do I count my blessings for nearly five glorious years of the perfect job and go back to the drawing board -er, job board?
Do I take a giant leap of faith into the oblivion and take my talents to South Beach (OK, I wouldn’t really go to South Beach. That was a little Cleveland humor a la LaBron James.) by starting a business that people have told me I could do if I really tried?
Or do I go back to the tried and true jobs that I have done over the years.
So much to think about. For now, I will just enjoy today and the moments I have in the warm sunshine with the girls.
But those spiders better be ready.