Time...Is On My Side

Three years ago, I decided that I wanted to teach overseas.  I knew it wasn’t something that would happen immediately; plans had to be made.  So I started the preparation for my exit.  It involved graduating, figuring out what to do with my house and job, the application process and things of that nature.  When it became clear that I could indeed do this, I set the summer of 2012 as the time of departure.  I had everything planned; I resigned from my teaching gig, set the date for my final defense, arranged for the care of my house, and packed up the stuff that I wasn’t using.

I should have known better, and no I’m not saying this out of anger.  Frustration, yes, but not anger.  Frustration that all my plans didn’t come to fruition when I wanted, expected, needed them to.  I’ve gone through something like this before—who hasn’t—but with the passage of time; I realized that had my plans worked out to my expectations, it would have disastrous results.

Pictured: DANGER!

Case in point: Eight years ago, I was dating a man who was a pastor.  We were into each other like crazy, but the timing was all wrong.  He knew it and I knew it, but we couldn’t stay away from each other.  We established parameters like any reasonable couple should, but they didn’t hold for quite a few reasons I won’t bother to illuminate here.  At the time, we were both thinking that we would end up at the altar in a couple of years, and I was convinced it was what I wanted.  But our relationship didn’t last; I was the one who woman’d up and ended it. 

Fast forward to now and I know that had we gotten married, it would have been a hot fire mess.  Even though I look the part and have all of the qualities a [southern] preacher’s wife should have, I am sooooooo not that.  I don’t even think I’m wife material because I refuse to be bothered with a lot of shit married couples go through.  I’m selfish, I don’t like compromise, I need my space, and I don’t want children.  Any man who wants to boo up with me needs to understand and be able to accept these things.

Anyway, back to the original subject.  I’m frustrated because I’m still here, I haven’t gotten the job I reeeeaaaaaally wanted, and I’m still going back and forth with my major professor.  Sooooo not what I saw myself doing and being as my birthday draws near.  But I know deep in my heart that this holding pattern is serving a very significant purpose: as I forge new connections with some and rebuild old ones with others; as I prepare to spend what may potentially be my last holiday season in the United States with my family; as I complete my terminal degree…the life I have now is coming to an end and a new one will begin.  I guess the key word here is “end.”  Perhaps in August, I wasn’t truly prepared for things to end, even though I thought I was.  I see now that I haven’t said all my good-byes and haven’t laid certain things to rest, and if I am to have a successful life as an expatriate author, these things must occur.

As far as the job I really want (a virtual school instructor), I’ve learned that it is currently in a state of flux.  There are too many students, not enough teachers, the location is constantly changing, and the HR people take their time with reimbursements and finding appropriate housing, and there is an overall lack of professionalism from the top down.  I was told all this by my friend (who is a department chair for said school), and she is of the belief that I’ve dodged a bullet.  Considering my need for structure and stability, I tend to agree.  This last job I get will be just that; my last job, the one I’ll retire from.  So it needs to be the right one.  Until then, I’ll enjoy my family, finish up my research and graduate, so I don’t have to be bothered with that when my new life starts.

Y’all already know that patience isn’t one of my virtues, but when you’re in a holding pattern, you ain’t got no choice but to be patient.  I’ll deal with my frustration because I know the sacrifice I’m making is worth it in the end.  I want a certain kind of lifestyle, one I know I can have, and so certain things must be in place.  I won’t be desperate, I won’t half-step, and I for damn sure won’t settle.  The older I get, the more I know that time is my friend, and with it, bullshit rolls downhill.