I named this blog "My Unfinished Project" because 'unfinished' does at times seem to be the nature of life, particularly where home ownership is concerned. This state of affairs is often exasperating and occasionally funny, but there are times when it's just plain bad. It wasn't funny growing up in a home that was in such an extreme unfinished state and for such a long period of time that it became a black hole of sorts, engulfing all of the love and energy of its occupants.
There is also no humor in losing a job because of the inability to complete an assignment. I've had my share of close calls with writing assignments in the past, but the context was always school, and though my grade may have suffered because of it, I always managed to finish the assignment and earn a respectable grade for the class in the end.
I am now approaching the two year anniversary of losing a great job because of a silly unfinished writing assignment. It's a sobering anniversary, and one that preceded the absolute worst Christmas of my life. So what happened?
After "working" as a caregiver for 3 years, I finally landed my dream job- Regional Planning Assistant for the County of Los Angeles. Finally I would be able to employ my undergraduate degree and the certificate I had earned in Geographic Information Systems. Finally I would be able to meet my own basic needs for food, shelter, and clothing, should circumstances require it. Knowing I would be able to survive on my own was huge for me psychologically. Living with a dying family member, one who had once cared for me and others so capably, did a number on my psyche (to put it mildly). During my time with her, I felt that I was within death's grasp. After she passed away, I felt like a survivor- horribly sad, but also relieved. My own slow death was over. But I felt hopeless as a potential employee- Who would want me? What skills would I have to offer, after three-plus years of wallowing in despair? Who wouldn't take one look at my resume, and read, "UC Berkeley graduate... Great! Caregiver? No salary? Hmmmm.... Home Depot- hmmmm.... Temp Agency- hmmmm..... What's wrong with her?"
My fears were legitimate (I've read studies about the long-term costs associated with caregiving that say as much)- but I was fortunate. I think it helped that I was targeting government agencies as potential employers-- most take seriously the federal mandate to be an equal opportunity employer, and utilize a relatively objective hiring process. Firstly, the position had an educational requirement- a Bachelor's Degree in a field closely related to Urban Planning. A certain number of units in GIS was also required. Finally, the interview process included an "exam"- and I passed that. Unlike many planning jobs, there was no requirement for previous work experience with a planning agency. So, nervously, tentatively, I started my new position. I was nervous, yes, but more than that I was thrilled- My life wasn't over! I wasn't destined to be destitute or perpetually dependent. Finally I was on my way, poised to climb Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs pyramid. Self-actualization was within my sights! Every deferred dream, from home ownership to starting a family, was finally going to be a possibility!
So how could I let myself fail? My mother has a theory that when events such as this one take place, our actions are on some level intentional. She says that we are "sabotaging ourselves". I certainly did sabotage myself here, but I don't believe I intended to. I think my inaction was instead due to my desire to write an amazing paper that would help me to standout from the crowd. The paper represented me, and I wanted it to be good, especially since I didn't seem to be connecting with my supervisor. If anything, I cared too much about the assignment and gave it too much weight. Where others told me they had turned in old assignments, I started from scratch. For all of my failings in life, I have never been a cheater, and to recycle an old paper seemed like cheating to me. I also chose the most challenging topic from the list of possibilities- there was so much I wanted to say! Perhaps by doing so I did set myself up to fail. There is a danger in caring too much- whatever the context. Life has certainly taught me that. Whether it's caring about a job, a vacation, or another human being, some degree of detachment seems to be necessary, even healthy. I'm taking this philosophy with me into my wedding planning. I've been obsessing about it because it's something to plan (the planner in me!) but if it isn't everything that wedding days are "supposed" to be- if it isn't perfect, I'm fine with that. It's one day.
I am now approaching the two year anniversary of losing a great job because of a silly unfinished writing assignment. It's a sobering anniversary, and one that preceded the absolute worst Christmas of my life. So what happened?
After "working" as a caregiver for 3 years, I finally landed my dream job- Regional Planning Assistant for the County of Los Angeles. Finally I would be able to employ my undergraduate degree and the certificate I had earned in Geographic Information Systems. Finally I would be able to meet my own basic needs for food, shelter, and clothing, should circumstances require it. Knowing I would be able to survive on my own was huge for me psychologically. Living with a dying family member, one who had once cared for me and others so capably, did a number on my psyche (to put it mildly). During my time with her, I felt that I was within death's grasp. After she passed away, I felt like a survivor- horribly sad, but also relieved. My own slow death was over. But I felt hopeless as a potential employee- Who would want me? What skills would I have to offer, after three-plus years of wallowing in despair? Who wouldn't take one look at my resume, and read, "UC Berkeley graduate... Great! Caregiver? No salary? Hmmmm.... Home Depot- hmmmm.... Temp Agency- hmmmm..... What's wrong with her?"
My fears were legitimate (I've read studies about the long-term costs associated with caregiving that say as much)- but I was fortunate. I think it helped that I was targeting government agencies as potential employers-- most take seriously the federal mandate to be an equal opportunity employer, and utilize a relatively objective hiring process. Firstly, the position had an educational requirement- a Bachelor's Degree in a field closely related to Urban Planning. A certain number of units in GIS was also required. Finally, the interview process included an "exam"- and I passed that. Unlike many planning jobs, there was no requirement for previous work experience with a planning agency. So, nervously, tentatively, I started my new position. I was nervous, yes, but more than that I was thrilled- My life wasn't over! I wasn't destined to be destitute or perpetually dependent. Finally I was on my way, poised to climb Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs pyramid. Self-actualization was within my sights! Every deferred dream, from home ownership to starting a family, was finally going to be a possibility!
So how could I let myself fail? My mother has a theory that when events such as this one take place, our actions are on some level intentional. She says that we are "sabotaging ourselves". I certainly did sabotage myself here, but I don't believe I intended to. I think my inaction was instead due to my desire to write an amazing paper that would help me to standout from the crowd. The paper represented me, and I wanted it to be good, especially since I didn't seem to be connecting with my supervisor. If anything, I cared too much about the assignment and gave it too much weight. Where others told me they had turned in old assignments, I started from scratch. For all of my failings in life, I have never been a cheater, and to recycle an old paper seemed like cheating to me. I also chose the most challenging topic from the list of possibilities- there was so much I wanted to say! Perhaps by doing so I did set myself up to fail. There is a danger in caring too much- whatever the context. Life has certainly taught me that. Whether it's caring about a job, a vacation, or another human being, some degree of detachment seems to be necessary, even healthy. I'm taking this philosophy with me into my wedding planning. I've been obsessing about it because it's something to plan (the planner in me!) but if it isn't everything that wedding days are "supposed" to be- if it isn't perfect, I'm fine with that. It's one day.
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