Moving Up In The World

Well, gone are the days of endless wonder as to what I want to do with my life...for now. Today, I completed my first day at work on my real, grown-up job, and I loved it. There was so much to take in and lots to be done, but I really think this will turn out to be a great fit for me.

So what is it that I do, exactly? Great question. My title is Volunteer Coordinator, and my job description is essentially to be determined...intimidating, right? This is a brand new position, and all I (and my boss!) really know is that I need to find, recruit, and maintain volunteers for some awesome programs in four counties, and perhaps an additional three. I'll be talking, driving, calling, emailing, and organizing like mad. I'll be writing my own job description as I shape and mold the position into something vital to the organization. Breathe. I must remember to breathe.

At this point, easier said than done.

The good news is that I have volunteered since I can remember. I love it. Volunteering could be a career path for me if it weren't for the fact that I actually need to, you know, survive. I've been that volunteer wiping down nasty food-covered lunch tables and I've been the volunteer passing out prizes or meeting some awesome people. I've volunteered with kids, cancer patients, seniors, kids with disabilities, people with mental illnesses, and poverty-stricken people of all kinds of backgrounds. You name it, I've probably volunteered with it--or know someone who has. Here's to hoping all of that gives me some sort of special insight as to what makes volunteers tick, what tugs at their heartstrings, and what it is that they love.

Oh yeah, and maybe that psychology degree will come in handy. Let me take a  moment to point out how excited I am to actually be able to use my degrees to help people. It always makes me sad when people can't use the degrees they worked so hard and paid so much to get. Boo.

So fingers crossed that I can knock this job out of the park and learn a lot along the way...preferably not the hard way, but life is funny about that sometimes, huh?

Bittersweet Beginnings

I have some big news. Well, the word has been spreading quite quickly, so I suppose by now it is entirely possible that everyone knows, but what the heck, I'll announce it here anyway:

I got a job!

A real one. A full-time one. A big kid job.

Great news, right? Of course! It will be so nice to finally be able to stop worrying about finding something permanent, and I'm so very excited to start this one. At the same time, though, it's all very bittersweet. See, everything I'm used to is here. Not two hours away where I'll be moving. The kids I work with every day, though they frustrate and exhaust me to no end sometimes, have endeared themselves to me so quickly, I am already mentally preparing to say my goodbyes. I have no doubt there will be tears, and most definitely a lump in my throat that refuses to allow me to speak in a normal tone of voice. I'm absolutely no good at goodbyes.

Not only that, but my family is all right here. Well, most of my family. How will I ever be able to move away from my little sister? It's definitely not going to be easy. Don't even get me started on leaving my parents, because all through college, I still teared up when I went back to school after a weekend at home. Yeah, it's a little pathetic, but I'll take that over wishing I was someone else's kid any day. Then there are my friends, and of course, Cameron. That will be awful.

At the same time, though, I have a sense of finally coming into my own. No more babysitting (unless I so choose), no more part time job, no more wishing I could just get a bite on my resume. No, now I will be a professional doing professional things, like buying office supplies and chatting with my coworkers about the latest episode of Dancing With The Stars (not that I watch it, but Yahoo! really doesn't let me avoid knowing who got kicked off and why).

So what will I be doing? I will be recruiting and coordinating volunteers for a non-profit. In all reality, it is the perfect job for me. There will be volunteers who work with kids (obviously something I love), some who provide meals for families/seniors in need (awesome), and oh so much more. Everything I've ever done is volunteer, really, so I'm feeling pretty confident that I can knock the proverbial socks off my boss when I start working for her.

I don't start there for a couple of weeks so that I have time to find a place to live (I need to get on that...) and get settled, but keep your fingers crossed and say a little prayer for me! Oh, and you can bet I'll write all about it after my first day!

Adventures in Interviewland

I had an interview in Detroit on Monday. Normally, this would be exciting, and it was, until I had to actually get there.

My interview was set to begin at 3 pm, and in situations like that, I am very particular about being there at least 10-15 minutes early. Knowing that one of my greatest talents is getting lost, I arrived in Detroit at 2:15 to give myself plenty of time to figure out how to get to the office. As it turns out, I did drive around for about 15 minutes before I found what I believed to be the correct building and the parking structure across the street, as described in the email I was following. Great.

Enter my inability to understand driving directions.

I walked around this particular monument about 4 times..

I exited the parking structure and crossed the busy street, walked into the building and loved the sound of my heels clicking against the marble floors. I spoke to a very nice gentleman at the reception area, who assured me I was absolutely not in the correct place. In fact, I was four blocks away.

Fantastic.

Four blocks isn't too bad, I thought. Oh, how wrong I was. That four blocks turned into 1 mile. Keep in mind that it was 83 degrees outside, the sun was relentless, I was lost, and I had 20 minutes to walk a mile in heels across the city, and that 20 minutes would put me at the office at exactly 3 pm.

By the time I arrived at the correct location, my feet were bleeding from the blisters that both formed and popped in the first 10 minutes of my trek. My shirt was nearly soaked through with sweat (something that has never happened to me, incidentally, even after half an hour on the treadmill, I never sweat that much! Gross.) I was 4 minutes late, and my stress level was out of control. My hair was matted to my head and I was the epitome of a "hot mess" at that point.

I imagine this was the general additude of my
blistered toes by the time I arrived home.

Frankly, I was amazed they let me join the interview given my appearance and tardiness. I did the best I could to answer the questions and appear unphased by my body temperature (I must admit, I was impressed with my self-control as I resisted fanning myself or attempting to clean my bloodied feet). In the end, they were very kind about the whole thing.

I'm not sure if I'll be called back for a second interview, but regardless, this was an important learning experience. I know that I have a strong drive to make things happen, and I think that came through as I practically ran to get to the interview on time. I know that next time, I will definitely make sure I drive by the proper office a day or two ahead of time.

The walk back to my car was one of the most painful walks in my life...paying $17.50 for parking was offensive to me as well. I'm not sure I can think of any parking structure that is worth that fee for an hour and a half.

So was the Journey Through Interviewland from Hell.

What the Doctor Ordered

Sometimes, a good day of volunteering is just what I need to get my head back in the game.

On Sunday, I woke up at 4:45 in the morning, stumbled blindly around my house for a while until I got my coffee, and through sleep-deprived, squinty-eyes, I headed out with a couple friends to volunteer at the 7th annual golf event benefiting The Alexander Foundation. We arrived a little before 6:00 am and wiped the morning dew off of the carts, attached the team numbers, and had VIP tickets to the Mosquito Festival that was in full force.

96 golfers came out to have a good time and benefit
The Alexander Foundation!

 

The golfers arrived in flocks a little before 8:00 and other volunteers registered them and sent them to me. I then handed them a free, awesome polo shirt that proudly displays "The Alexander Foundation" on the front. I loved joking with a few of the golfers, but most of all, I loved knowing that I was spending my day doing what I could to help kids with cranio-facial disabilities.

The little boy who inspired the creation of the foundation, Alexander, suffers from Cloverleaf Syndrome (find out more on the Alexander Foundation's website). 

By the time I made it home around 10:00 pm, I was exhausted and felt completely unable to stand up, let alone move around, but I felt more satisfied than I have in a while.

Moral of the story:
Frustrated with an unsatisfying job? Annoyed that you can't find a job? Looking for a way to mix things up a little and do some good in your community? Volunteer! It's an incredible boost of psychological energy, and you can make life a little easier for someone who needs it.

And you could start a mosquito-killing contest. I got 3 in 10 minutes. Take that, mosquitoes!

Thanks, Dad!

Father's Day may be over, but I want to give a shout-out to my dad today. I am convinced I have the best, most awesome, most exceptional dad out there. The hundreds of Facebook statuses claiming the same thing on Father's Day were misguided, clearly.

Saturday morning I was greeted with a fresh cup of coffee and a bagel (my favorite breakfast combo, I love carbs), followed by an hour's worth of friendly chit chat with my dad. Of course, he had been up for hours--he's one of those folks who considers 9am way too late to be still sleeping-- and had already fertilized the lawn, put in new trim in his bathroom, and finished grouting the new tile.

A few hours later, after feeling as though I had just come in from flogging a dead horse and then repeatedly bashing my head into a cement wall (I was job hunting and filling out applications), I heaved a deep sigh and slumped down on the couch. He sat with me for about two hours listening to me gripe about being bored to the point of wishing there was paint I could watch as it dried as that sounded thrilling in comparison to my day, and I went on about the frustrating (understatement of the century) job market.  By the end of the conversation, he had shared stories of his own about finding work in the first few years of my parents' marriage.

My dad, though, knows me enough to know that when I'm in full-on gripe mode (which, in all honesty, is pretty rare for me, I think), advice is generally the last thing I will listen to. All I want to do is vent. And I can be good at it. So he just let me go. As soon as I was done, after a few tears had been shed and it was all I could do to hold back the sniffles, he promptly stood up, started a pot of coffee (my ultimate weakness), and brought me a cookie he made the other day. We then talked for another couple of hours about absolutely anything, just something to keep my mind off of the job hunt. We even compared the nearly matching scars on our shins--we call them battle wounds-- from various reckless childhood days.

When it was all said and done, we had a couple laughs and I was feeling much better...I even laughed when he made fun of how blue my eyes looked because the "red puffiness really brings out the blue" when I cry. Funny, Dad. Reeeal funny.

Eh, I know I'll find a job, and it will be one I love. I know it takes time, and I know it's probably going to be frustrating for a little while, but sometimes, a good vent and a good cry is really all you need to get back at it again. So, thanks, Dad, for truly being the best around <3

The Beginning of...Well, Who Knows?

I suppose an introduction is in order.

Since graduating from college, I have found myself busy, busy, busy...with practically nothing. Having not found a job yet (yeah, I know, shocker. A 20-something psychology major in a terrible job market hasn't found a stellar career.), I have found I have a great propensity to do one thing. All the time. Like my life depended on it.

Think.

It's all I do. I think and think and think until I think my head might burst. And what's worse is that I think about everything. The job market. New must-try recipes.The happiness situation in Bhutan. The growing dust collection on a stack of forgotten CDs in my room.  Football pants, which happen to be infinitely confusing to me. Everything.

Finally, after a long day full of thoughts running through my mind (I sometimes imagine a little man named Thought literally sprinting around my brain, it's exhausting!), I decided that if I have to be subject to my own thoughts, so should you.

In this blog, you will find a sort of stream of consciousness. I can't promise that it will make sense at all times, because, really, what ever does make sense all the time? I can promise, however, that these posts will probably (notice how I said probably, not definitely, so don't blame me if this doesn't turn out to be true) make you laugh, scratch your head, turn up your stereo, and possibly make you do exactly what I'm trying to avoid doing: think.