...time may change me
but I can't trace time...
Lovely oldies song, that. I heard a contemporary rendition at a gas station, but it lacked the... passion... or maybe grit... and definitely the struggle... of David Bowie's delivery.
Disclaimer: I don't necessarily endorse the lives or complete works of many artists, Christian or non. If you listen to music as you would mine a canyon, you'll find some sweet jewels.
(turn and face the strain)
For the benefit of those of you who were not lambasted with the news via facebook or email, I received a call from the agency yesterday. They are "very interested in hiring" me! If I pass the physical exam and drug screening, that is.
Dave told me he doesn't think I'll pass the physical. "Anyone who shrieks like that when they get off the phone must have something wrong with them," he said.
Lauren asked me if this means I'm putting in my 6-months' notice at Kauffman's.
Julie K. gave me a pouty smile.
I'm going to miss my co-workers and being a part of the best corporation EVER, even though I will miss very little about e-commerce management. It's interesting work, but does not coincide with any goals or dreams of mine.
But yeah... did I mention I'll miss all my peoples here in Lancaster?
Despite the negative aspects of this change, I've been wearing my smile out since 4:00 yesterday afternoon. This opportunity is the chance of a lifetime for me. A tangible dream-come-true. To say I'm excited would be a minor understatement. ;)
Roughly eight weeks since starting this process, I am leaving this evening with my last truck-load of stuff. One more bon voyage on asphalt, and then I'm done. My wonderful dad has let me borrow his truck three times, and I've eliminated the need for renting a moving truck. :) After taking the physical tomorrow, I'll head back here to Lancaster, then await the call to begin training.
pretty soon now, you're gonna get a little older
time may change me
but i can't trace time
A monumental "THANK YOU!" to the many of you who have encouraged me to chase this dream, to hang onto faith when the jump felt like a free-fall. You're the best, I tell you. The best.