Monday, August 15, 2011

Love Shack

Because it would be flat-out wrong for my life to move forward in a linear, uneventful fashion, on the eve of my Just-Right-Job-Offer, my landlord called to let me know he needed to sell the house. My precious Casa del Mar will be turned over to some other family so they may reap the benefits of its love.

I've felt it since the first day I came to see it. Casa del Mar hugs you when you walk in the door. Every time. It has held my hand through my first lonely nights sans kids. It provided the perfect corner for the Chair of Fabulosity. It's where I have celebrated my independence and created a fantastic home for my children. I love Casa del Mar.

I remember when I was getting ready to leave Los Angeles and I couldn't bear the thought of moving out of the Big Blue House. Princess Pearl was born in its tub, for Pete's sake! How could I turn such a precious home over to someone else?

Well, as monumental as those not-quite two years were, the almost-three I've enjoyed in Casa del Mar have dwarfed them. Moving out, finalizing the divorce, returning to school, buying Viv, chapters of friendship and love with Wasabi, conquering a marathon, earning my degree...the memories I've made here are layers of wallpaper that will soon be covered by someone else's dreams.

And that's okay (or so I keep telling myself).  Casa del Mar has been such a blessing in my life. I will always love it and will wish it well. It's obviously time for it to play a pivotal role for another family. The right person will pass the threshold and feel the love and it will become theirs.

And I guess that's all I ask...that someone loves it as much it it loves them.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Plan B

There you go. A toast. A job.

As a matter of fact, after nearly three  months of searching and networking and begging and moaning, I ended up with two job offers. After each of the first interviews, I was fairly certain I'd knocked their socks off. Turns out, I was right.

I was referred to Job A by a friend of a gal who takes my spin class. After the first meeting, I was asked to return the following day to shadow one of the head honchos. That went well, but I then learned HR was going to be vacationing for a week, followed by other interviewees and whatnot. In the interim, I was asked to take an enlightening personality test and finally shadow the other head honcho. The following day, I was offered the job.

Sounds great, right? Except I wanted Job B. Desperately.

I found Job B via, but I also had an in at the organization. After reading the job description, I was certain it was my job so I applied online and then shot an email to my contact. I lost sleep that night thinking about that job. At my next opportunity, I made my interest known in person. A week or so later, I was called for the interview. It went well, and just a few hours later, I was invited to a 2nd questioning with one familiar face and a new one from yet another organization. I was pretty sure I aced that too, and knew their decision would be a quick one, but also knew Job A would probably be offered to me at about the same time.

Job A got themselves in a hurry and tried to snag me. I asked for some time to crunch numbers (you  know by now that I can make ends meet on next to nothing, but I needed to buy time) and then I lost sleep all weekend, worrying that Job B might not come through quickly enough...or not at all...or that I would feel like I had to take Job A then quit Job A to take Job B once it was offered. I'm worry-tastic like that.

By Monday morning, I was making myself sick over needing to answer Job A, fully believing I would get Job B, but, well, maybe not fully. So I couldn't just turn down A. I had to string them along. But I also had another job interview on Monday afternoon -- same organization but different position  as Job B. I dragged myself to it, knowing I didn't want anything but Job B. As I entered the building (different location), I saw one of my previous Job B interviewers. What I didn't know was that she saw me and panicked. She didn't want me to interview for Job C. She knew I was going to be offered Job B but some finalizing of offers was still in the works.

After a tour, I was seated to wait for my interview. A few minutes later, she grabbed me, dragged me into a room with a telephone. We were having a conference with yet another Job B interviewer. My smile grew...I was pretty sure I'd driven 25 minutes to accept a job that I could have been offered in the comfort of my home. And that was fine.

So it happened. My first Big Girl Job was offered to me. A job for which a college degree is required. A job that fits me like a [vintage full-length] glove.

I'll be a Healthy Living Coach at my YMCA. The job is a pilot initiative funded by Blue Cross and will target families who have children who are at risk for childhood obesity. I'll be conducting classes and activities, as well as teaching fitness and nutrition to entire families. I get to keep teaching my spin, youth fitness and family yoga classes. I get a desk. I get to wear grown-up clothes and do grown-up things. I get to be part of the solution.

Sigh (of the relief variety).