Ok. So I've been waiting for it, thinking the day would never come.
Hoping against hope that I would be "The One", the chosen candidate, the lucky lass, the "next best thing". And yesterday, the phone call came.
HR Rep: "Hello, Gypsy, I'm happy to tell you we have your offer letter. Can you please come collect it in person, between 9:00 and 11:00 or 14:00 and 16:00?"
ME: Oh Happy Dance, Oh Happy Dance, I done won the LOTTERY, Oh Yeaaah, Oh Yeaah, "We Are The Champions My Frie-ends" "Lovely. I can probably make it between 15:00 and 16:00. Shall I call ahead?"
I gathered myself together and drove down to the HQ office today at 15:00.
I think I drove. Maybe I floated. Maybe I dreamt it.
Anyhow, I ended up at HQ. Was issued a security pass allowing me access to the 44th floor. The bubble floor. The lollipop floor. The floor where magic happens. The floor where dreams are fulfilled. The floor where the impossible becomes possible.
After four fumbled attempts to enter the 44th floor lobby, the receptionist/security guard smirking at me through the glass paned door signaled for me to use my security pass/swipe card to disarm the doors.
Mission successful, I glided through, presented myself professionally confidently as "Gypsy, here to see HR Rep, to receive my totally awesome, incredible, radically insane, absolutely dreamt of, miraculous, gnarly, intense offer of employment". I think I blew him away with my professional confidence.
I then sat in the reception area for the requisite 20-minute (the HR rep is completely engrossed in a whirlwind of "oh-so-much-more-important-than-your-offer" tasks) waiting period, flicking aimlessly through a corporate magazine that read like gobbledygook to me. By the time I was summoned, I had the gobbledygook lingo down pat.
The receptionist/security guard informed me that I "could now be seen". He escorted me down a hall of cubicles, at the end of which we entered an "office with a view". I sat there alone for a few minutes alone, fidgeting with my iPhone, until I started to worry there might be hidden cameras behind which sat some psychoanalyst quietly analyzing my apparent fixation with technology while ignoring the natural splendor outside the floor to ceiling windows. So I stood up, put on my best "pensive and appreciative" face, adopted a "wonder and awe" stance (body slightly slanted to the side, arms crossed against my chest, leaning slightly backwards, nodding my head gently side to side).
I could only maintain this pose for a minute or two before it started to look fake. So I sat back down. The HR Rep came in. Walked me through the acceptance process. Showed me the paperwork. I caught a brief glimpse of the offer. Oh, yeah, this is gonna happen!
If you've been following my blog at all, you've read about some of my 'dissatisfaction issues' with my current job. It's not about the hours. It's not about the money. It's not about the office space. It's about disempowerment. This offer is a fresh new start. It may well end up being an "out of the pot, into the frying pan" scenario. But in the end, all I see is a new lease. It is my chance to spread my wings.
I am leaping, peeps, I am LEAPING! Come what may, I've always committed to living my life without regrets. I have stayed in my present job way past its expiration date because I did not want to live with the regret of compromising my family's income and future. But today, today, I am leaping into the unknown, because I have the chance to offer them something better. I can't be sure that it will be better, but I never want to have to ask myself "what if I had given it a shot?"
So now I must tender my resignation prior to submitting my signed acceptance of the offer. I have to undergo a medical (creaky bones at age 43 make for an uncertain future). I have to undergo State security clearance. And then maybe, maybe, maybe, if everything goes well, in four to five months I will be able to step into these amazing, glittery, bejeweled, stiletto 'new job' shoes. Or maybe they'll end up being frayed flip flops. Who knows?
But I couldn't miss this opportunity. No way in hell was I gonna risk asking "what if?" And I just can't get over the fact that they liked me ... they really, really liked me!!!!
Here's hoping I'm stepping into amazing, glittery, bejeweled, stiletto, 'new job' shoes.