When I got the call, I didn't scream with relief like I thought I would. Instead, I politely accepted the offer and wondered around my neighbourhood in a daze. Trying to make sense of it. Barely noticing the day's heat boiling my skin. The young mothers and their strollers. The hot bikini babes. The tall oak trees bending their branches down waiving to me as I go. The camera store employee with the long hair I always see smoking outside of Blenz. All of it seems irrelevant.
After all the stressing and drowning in self-doubt and almost folding under the pressure of it all – and waiting, waiting, waiting for Life to finally start happening – finally, all of it coming together with a single phone call. With a man on the other end, sounding very much what I imagine God to sound like (bold and assertive, yet jovial and welcoming!), and telling me: "We'd like to offer you the position."
"Is that a yes?"
"Damn right it is."
"Do you have any questions for me?"
"Um. Is there anything I should ask?"
He laughs and said: "I'm surprised that I interviewed 42 people and not a single one asked me how much the pay is."
So of course I asked, but not necessarily because I was curious but because I was on auto-pilot, doing what I was instructed to do. And then hearing what they pay...
All of that feeding into this swirl of emotion. Utter confusion in the blistering heat, but a good confusion, like when making sense of the swirls on a head of cotton candy.
And then I start bawling like a newly orphaned child. Right there, in the middle of the street. In the city, with the heat pressing UV weights on my shoulders. My town, the one I love. The one with the sexy bikini babes and young mothers with their strollers. And the tall oak trees.