My favorite Christmas gift from my mother is socks. Crazy, colorful socks. I believe this is because my parents sought to instill a spirit of gratefulness for every gift. Plus I prize utility.
But sometimes you want something other than socks.
For the last six months, I worked a temp job I did not want. I was an office gerbil in a seemingly endless cubicle farm, and I migrated webpages on the weirdest medical topics you can possibly imagine in a software environment I loathed (Shaaaarepooooint! *shakes fist*).
This job was supposed to end five months ago. Through various job search rollercoasters (the callback high, interviews, the protracted waiting, rejections, etc.), this was a constant. I jumped on the Schuylkill by 7, slid into my cube a tetch after 8, and at the end of each week I collected my paycheck, not knowing if I’d still have work after each Friday. And yet.
It is a grace I did not want. But it’s been what I needed.
In some ways, it had to happen. I’ll admit it, I did a Jessica Jones-level eyeroll when I wrote that sentence.
It’s a very strange dichotomy: to hate the situation you’re in, but also be simultaneously aware that it’s useful and for your ultimate good. I’ve had really amazing conversations with coworkers, a boss who’s been really kind, and the calming steadiness of a predictable corporate environment. The long drive gave me time to catch up on sermons and Turtles’ B-sides. No experience is wasted.
Now begins the next chapter. More hang-gliding with Jesus! Here's hoping for some awesome socks.
