A few weeks ago, a position opened up where I work. It’s something totally different than what I do now, and also full-time with benefits, so, as I do with many of my life decisions, I decided what the hell and applied for it. I sent my resume (after editing and updating my resume while I had a 100+ degree temperature and thinking “Gosh, I hope that makes sense”), and about a week later, I had an interview. The interview was fairly intense, since I was interviewed by a panel of four people, and though some things were familiar to me because I already work for the agency, the questions were tough and probing, not like typical interview fare, such as “What is your greatest weakness?” They were questions like “If this happened, what would be your plan to take care of it?” So I had to know stuff and think quickly and coherently and not be a babbling goon (and trust me, when I’m anxious — and being shut in a conference room with four people who are all staring at me and writing down what I say is enough to make me anxious — I sure can be a babbling goon).
Well, it all worked out, because today I was offered and I accepted the job! I begin the transition over to the new stuff on Monday. Yay, I say. Yay, me.
It’s going to be a switch, though, because I’ve been working part-time for a little more than three years now. I’ve had every Wednesday off for more than three years, and now I’ll be working five days a week. I’ll miss those Wednesdays off, because it’s really pretty great to have a break in the middle of the week when I can sit around all morning in my pajamas and drink coffee and catch up on stuff I’ve recorded on TV if I want to, but I’m happy to trade if it means that I have some more stability and, oh yeah, more money. That’s a really good deal, because money has been STRESSING ME OUT.
Perhaps the most exciting thing — and I suppose this just goes to show you that I am turning into a boring old person — is that now I’ll have health insurance. Not having health insurance at 23 is one thing, but not having health insurance at 33 is another thing entirely. Because as I get older, it turns out that I’m more likely to have to go to the doctor sometimes, and paying for that out of pocket can be pretty steep. I had surgery back in 2010, and I’ll be paying for it until I’m 40. So when I called my mom to give her the good news, I said that once the benefits go into effect, I’m going to go on a tour of doctor’s appointments. Not because I feel particularly unhealthy, but because I CAN. And then we laughed, and then I said “Alright, I’m gonna go.”
So there’s that news. Hurrah! I’m going out with some friends tonight; we’d planned this a couple of weeks back. And now I have something to celebrate!
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