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Humble Pie
I think I might have found a job. FINALLY!! So many things have transpired right in front of me, through this experience. I'm going to show you a glimpse into my life for a moment.
With the experience I brought with me, and the training I've received I expected to come out of this program and land this perfect job, making a ridiculous amount of money and all of my problems would just magically disappear. Wow! Was I in for a Humbling Wake-up call.
I did what all of my classmates were doing, and for that matter, what every contributing member of society does...I went looking for a job. I scoured the newspaper, looked online, made phone calls and even showed up to some facilities unannounced to drop off my resume'. I would call to make sure they received said resume' and to see if they were interested in what I had to offer. If I received a call for an interview, I showed up on time. Neatly and professionally I presented myself. I would answer their questions as honestly and politely as possible. The perfect candidate, one might say. Interview after interview, all seemed to go very well. And, based on the information they provided, I conducted a bit of an interview myself. Because after all, you might be perfect for the job, however, the job might not be perfect for you. So, I diligently followed up with a phone call. I even went out and purchased two sets of Thank You cards. Why two, you ask? Well, what if I get a second interview? I don't want to send out the same card! I thought I had it all figured out. Surely, they would see what a good person I am, and even if I don't have all the experience they are requiring, certainly they will love me enough to hire me, anyway! Right?! WRONG!! This is Las Vegas, baby. It's not WHAT you know, it's WHO you know. And, WHO do I know? I know a lot of people, but, obviously not the right people. Or, at least not well enough. Well, I will tell you this. I am a child of the Most High God! He has destined me for great things, and He has plans for me to prosper. That's what I kept telling myself. Did I believe it? Well, that remains to be seen.
So, I continue interviewing and searching. I am called to interview at a place where the interview went well, and they said very nice things about me, to me. They told me I'd fit right in with the team. They, they offered me the job and told me what I would be paid for all of my hard work. It was less than what I currently make. So, I politely declined and thanked her for considering me and hung up the phone. How insulting I thought. And, then proceeded to talk to my coworkers who, by the way, have been among those in my cheering section. The told me how I'm worth more than that. How I didn't pay all that money to go to school, work all those long hours and to go to class tired, make all those sacrifices only to take a small-time job like that. I was encouraged to seek a better paying job. And, I agreed. I kept reminding myself how hard I worked and how much I deserved to be making a ridiculous amount of money. After all, I don't want to live with roommates all of my life. I want my own home, my own room. My daughter needs her own space, her own room. And, gosh darn it...we deserve it!! So, I interview some more, and in fact, I had now interviewed with one particular facility three different times. And, for three different positions. I should have bought a third set of Thank You cards! I mean, each time I interview with them, I learn that I can be making a ridiculously large amount of money. That which I have never known. Then, finally I interview just one day later with a private physician. Which, basically means that he does most of his procedures at his office. That's where I will work, should I accept this position. I explain to him some of my frustrations about being a new grad and how everyone wants experience. And, that I have interviewed at the one facility three times. The last being earlier in the same week. As the interview goes on most of the things I hear from him I'm not too particularly fond of, but they are not deal-breakers. He then tells me he wants to hire me. But, he thinks I owe it to myself to give the one facility an opportunity to consider me and respond. Especially, since he is not coming anywhere close to offering me a ridiculously high amount of money. In fact, what he is offering is almost as insulting as the first offer that I received. But, I think it is only fair that I wait it out, and hope that the hospital will offer me the job. I agree to one week, shake his hand and thank him for the opportunity, wish him well on his upcoming vacation back to Egypt and leave his office. When I get to my car I feel an overwhelming urge to cry. Not too sure where this is coming from, but I need to wait until I get out of the parking lot, since the windows to his office face the parking lot where I was parked. Maybe a little disappointed that the only job offers that have been extended to me have been real low paying jobs, and positions that don't require me to use my training in an actual operating room. They're what is known as "procedures". And, did he actually say he doesn't pay overtime? Yes, he did. So, I'm driving down the road, and thus far have been able to keep the tears at bay. I realize that this is a church night. I'll just talk to the girls at church, get some prayer and it will be abundantly clear that I should hold out for a job at the hospital. That being said, I need to run by the house to pick up my bible, and whoa, I need gas. So, I pull into the next gas station. It doesn't allow you to pay at the pump, so I go inside to pay for my gas. I start thinking positive thoughts, trying not to over analyze what I've just been told. I think to myself, I deserve that job at the hospital. I deserve to be making a ridiculous amount of money, and they are going to call me and offer me the job. Yeah, they will. Uh-huh, that job is mine! I mean for heaven's sake, I've met with them three times now. They practically know my life history. Now, I'm starting to feel better. And, boy do I look good! Oh yeah! I do, huh?! I'm having a good-hair day. My clothes are complimenting my figure nicely, and the shoes!! Oh, the shoes! They're my favorite. Little strappy heels, and they look so good with this outfit! My make up looks good. Not too dark, not uneven. Perfect! I was reminded, by myself I might add, how confident I was before the interview. What was I thinking be sad? And, where did that come from, anyway? So, I paid for my gas and walked out as if I was walking the runway in Milan. I pushed that door open and took one step off the platform and then...it happened. The world stopped. There was no sound and no movement for what seemed like an eternity. Slowly, the second shoe dropped, then slipped and I tried ever so graciously, but there was nothing I could do. My ankle twisted, then down on one knee I went. I thought I could stop myself at that point, but oh no! My left hand hit the pavement and before I knew it I was down on my elbow. And, there I was. Then, all at once time started. I could hear noises, I could feel heat, I could smell grease and I could taste humiliation. Ick! That's not good! But, like the trooper I am, I got right up and looked to see what I could have possibly stepped in, because there had to be something there to cause that horribly embarrassing thing to happen to me, but there was nothing. I brushed the dirt from my pant leg and straightened up those beautifully strappy heels, that just moments ago I had praised them for making me look so beautiful. Hmmmhh, whataya doin' for me now? Now, I walk with a little more caution and shyly look to see if there was anyone that had witnessed me reenacting my version of the ballet Swan Lake. I start pumping gas with my hand stinging, knee burning and bottom lip quivering, and I begin to feel the large bruise developing on my ego. With my tank now full, I jump into my car and try to swallow that large bite of humble pie that feels cemented to my throat.
So many things are going through my mind. And, at this point I'm so thankful to be alone. Although, I'm picturing how completely and utterly hilarious that must have looked. And, I kind of giggle to myself. Then, as I approach the house because, remember I forgot my bible. I sent up a quick prayer..."please let the house be empty!" As if I'm Samantha in Bewitched, and everyone would just magically disappear. Not so. The roommates are home. So, I try to gain my composure, thinking I don't know how I feel about all that has happened to me over the last few hours, much less being thwarted with questions. I know, I'll think of something that will stop the questions. I just don't want to talk about it. And, honestly, I just don't have any answers. So, the wheels start turning. I could always say I've been sneezing. I always look like I've been crying when I do that. I could blame it on hormones. We gals seem to have no problem chocking it up to being hormonal when we're not. Or, I know, I could just send it back to them with, "what do you mean, I haven't been crying!" But, the truth is I had been crying, and there was no getting around it. But, it was more than that. Hard to explain, but I'll try. Do you ever get that feeling in your gut when you know what you have to do, but you just don't want to do it? It was like that. Only, I had not allowed myself to come to terms with that feeling, yet. So, I tell them about my afternoon in 10 seconds or less and throw in the part about my little spill at the gas station. Blame my tears on that and a bit of frustration and they politely leave me alone in my room. Aren't they great!!
So, the days go on and I hear about a few of my fellow classmates finding jobs making that ridiculous amount of money and up rises my frustration meter. Here we go, again. Why is it that I spend the same amount of money and time and effort on this program as they did. Studied rigorously for this grueling exam. And, by the way, I passed! Ok, not all of them have, and some of them haven't even taken it, yet. And, I am one of the few from my school to attend our national conference. But, I am not being selected for the great paying jobs. The jobs that are taking my fellow classmates into the OR. Nope, I am being offered the low paying jobs that don't even recognize my certification! And, not to mention I'm going to be the "Butt Queen". See, that's a term we used for the techs that worked in the endoscopy room at the surgery center where I used to work. Who said God doesn't have a sense of humor??
So, after all of my grumblings and complaining. After all of the ways I have tried to justify my bad attitude, the fact remains...I am a child of the Most High. He does have a plan for me. Even if I don't know what it is, it's not to harm me, but to give me hope and a future. (See Jeremiah 29:11) He will not leave me nor forsake me. (See Deuteronomy 31:6) The most important thing to know about my God in this situation is His peace. To trust Him and to know He thinks about me. It sure does make that Humble Pie very sweet. Enjoy!
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This intel was contributed by tink
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May, 2012
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