In a perfect world, the very last day of a much-loved job wouldn't coincide with the full moon. My normal stoicism has disintegrated into a rather weepy mess. But it's a bright sunny day, so Puppy and I will be going for a walk later. Let the endorphin production begin!
I was going through craigslist last night and saw an ad from my chiropractor. He needs an office manager. I was thinking about applying. I even adapted my resume to include relevant experience. The hours are good, no weekends, profit sharing, probably free adjustments, Dr. Kerry is a lovely man and would probably be a good boss. There's no reason not to apply. Except that he's asking for a two year commitment. And while the rational part of my brain thinks a change would do me good, the rest of my brain is screaming with boredom at the very idea of paperwork and office routines and wearing scrubs.
I was debating whether or not to get myself together to go drop off my resume when my phone rang. It was Oana, who'd interviewed me for a catering company a couple of weeks ago. The person who'd singled me out of hundreds of resumes because I was the only pastry person to apply. (Thanks for recommending audacity, Will!). She was calling to let me know that they are on track to open around the first of April, that she's looking forward to working with me, that she can be very flexible with my hours (20 a week to start), that she hopes to have me full-time very shortly, and would I be willing to research gluten-free baking for her gluten-free meal plan.
Sure. No problem. Thank you, Oana. And thank you Universe, for an outstanding display of timely intervention. I feel quite encouraged.