Finding joy in the journey…through potholes, sink holes, and great crevasses
It has been a personal goal of mine to focus on what is going right instead of always ‘problem solving’, or focusing on the negative. It’s part of my game plan to combat my anxiety/depression and show an overall greater appreciation to the merciful, sweet God I have in heaven.
Today I had a job interview in Salt Lake City, so that meant I got to navigate yet again (navigating has never been my secret pleasure….ever) from Logan to the great valley.
It all started before I even left Logan. I woke-up early, showered, and made myself look somewhat human for the day. As I was grabbing my backpack, throwing my wallet and keys in a pouch, I noticed that my external hard drive was gone.
To give a little background to the seriousness of this situation. This entire semester I have been coding a website for a senior seminar class. The website and poster I designed for it were due in two weeks. If any of you have ever done coding or worked in Adobe InDesign you understand that losing EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR FILES feels like the real zombie apocalypse.
I ran around campus like a mad woman, checking every computer lab and lecture hall I had been to. Finally, and thanks to someone who turned it in to the lab technician, I was reunited with my external hard drive. I was so relieved, I didn’t mind that they went through the entire thing to find my name, scrawl it on a sticky note, and slap it on top (hope you enjoyed the posters, lines of code, and research papers as much as I do).
Thanking God for quite literally saving my academic life through the hands of another, I rushed off to my morning class. Later returning home, I sent a quick prayer of safety up, touched up my make-up and hair, and set off to conquer Salt Lake. Now, in Logan it has been snowy, sunny, rainy, and in-between. Each day the weather is like our own personal jack-in-the-box, you never really know. This morning happened to be particularly cold. I wore a skirt for my interview, but opted for bright orange warm socks for the drive. “Oh yeah,” I thought to myself as I slipped my orange foot into my white flats, “I’ll totally remember to take these off before I go in. No problem.”
It was fun, really and truly, navigating out by the airport. Thanks to my trusty GPS (Dad- greatest Christmas present. Hands down) I arrived at my destination a whole hour early. For my fellow anxiety peeps, you understand this is nothing new. Why plan to be 10 minutes early when you can be a whole hour early? It’s all planning ya know, just in case you hit a snow storm, get a flat tire, run out of gas even though you just filled up the tank, or there’s the logical zombie apocalypse.
Here I sat in the parking lot, for a whole hour, trying to be productive. I checked all my social media, read some work emails, looked at other job opportunities, and stalked all social media accounts for the company I was interviewing with. This entire time, I didn’t seem to notice that the fence in front of my car was substantially brighter than the rest of the fence. Yes, that’s right, I left my lights on. I literally sat in my parked car (it wasn’t running at all-go planet earth), for an entire hour, with my lights on. It was definitely a glory moment in the life of Lindsey.
Finally, the clock rolled around to an amount of time I thought was socially acceptable to be early. I grabbed my purse, work examples, checked my appearance one last time, and opened the door.
Ding, ding, ding, ding.
My heart sunk, “oh no,” I thought, “did I really leave my lights on?”
I quickly flipped my lights off, waited 15 seconds (because a battery totally recharges by itself in 15 seconds) and turned the key. My battery was so dead it wouldn’t even turn over.
Laughing to myself, shrugging a bit, I got out and went in to my interview. The dead battery occupied my mind so much I totally forgot about the orange socks. Luckily, I ducked in to the ladies room before going to meet my interviewers, and realized my orange socks were still a trusty companion that needed to be stuffed in to my purse.
Lucky for me I have a set of jumper cables in my trunk (my uncle really was right about the importance of having those handy dandy things) and grandparents who live 15 minutes away and really didn’t mind coming to my rescue.
We made a late lunch out of it, chatted it up a bit, and genuinely had a pleasant time. On my drive home, I couldn’t help but commend myself for the general level of calmness I kept through-out the entire day. If this had happened a few months previously, trust me, anxiety queen would have reigned the day.
Overall lessons learned? When people lecture you on the importance of jumper cables in your trunk, you should probably listen.