Skip to main content

Dream Jobs

It was ten years ago this month that I finished graduate school. Although I had held a few jobs in the decade preceding that graduation, that was the moment I launched my career. That was the end-point for 6 years of advanced schooling. I was ready for the next chapter. 

In the decade that has passed, there have been a lot of chapters. In fact, I feel like I've experienced more of a novella. Most of you (my devoted blog followers) know the gist of the story so I'll spare you the details.  Sometime in the early 2000s (the "NAUGHTies?"), after a conversation that I'm pretty sure emerged during a road trip with the hubby, I made a list.  
What were my top 5 Dream Jobs? 
 

I've kept the list in various forms and it currently lives on my iPhone...for handy reference. 

 I've been thinking a great deal about that list lately. 

First of all, I'm living my dream. My job at Commonwealth Autism Service is #3. I love my job and I'm proud to say that even though it is a challenge, I think I'm pretty good at what I do. Going back to work for CAS in February was the best decision I've made in recent memory.   

The second thing I see when I look at this list is that I've also endeavored towards #4. My spiritual life is in a state of flux right now, but I see my work with CJSTUF as my adventure in Public Service. As Elizabeth Smart so poignantly said the other day, "One of the biggest ways to overcome any trial in life, to heal from any kind of experience, is by helping those around you. Because by lifting those around you, you end up lifting yourself as well."

The park ranger/camp director dream was born from my years as a YMCA camp counselor. It was probably my favorite pre-career job. Someday, when Roger and I plan to retire, our goal is to travel the country in an RV making long-term pit stops at state and national parks. We'll earn our keep by volunteering our time at the parks while we get to see the world. That's the plan. For now. Given the current state of my IRA, it's probably good that we're not thinking too extravagantly.


When the Romp n' Roll idea fell into our laps, it was the closest I thought we would ever come to summer camp. It was, in fact, Romp n' Roll's summer camp that allowed our daughter to experience the concept for the first time. In the summer of 2007, we saw ownership of a Romp n' Roll franchise as our opportunity to live a dream. It was a business that capitalized on both Roger's and my strengths and talents. We researched the options, weighed the pros and cons as we saw them, and walked in with eyes wide open.


Then the recession happened (note: economists claim the recession officially began in December 2007, the same month we bought the business)

Then cancer happened. 

Needless to say, a lot of unexpected shit went down. While Roger and I have loved so many things about our Romp n' Roll experience, saying that it did not work for us financially is kind of an understatement. This month, after much deliberation, we made the difficult decision to relinquish ownership of our location back to our franchisors and cut our losses while we had the chance to avoid bankruptcy. Yes. It was that bad.


I've had a hard time processing this. I've had to come to terms with loss, with a sense of failure, and with anger that's not really directed at anyone in particular but at the general unfairness that sometimes exists in the world. I hesitate to say everything happens for a reason. It seems like more of a platitude than a truth right now.  But I do know that my life is far richer in many ways because of the families who have met us and supported us through Romp n' Roll.  I am happy in the sense that I am relinquishing a source of significant stress from my life. I am relieved that I can focus my energies in more successful arenas. I just need to make it known that I'm still grieving this loss.


So what happens now? I will continue with my current jobs, working at CAS and running CJSTUF. As part of our agreement with Romp n' Roll, Roger is staying at the Mechanicsville location as their General Manager. For the first time in three years, he will make a salary. Over time, we will carve our way out of debt. As Roger likes to say, it's just money. After everything the last few years have brought us, we still love each other. That might seem schmaltzy but it's a TRUTH that has kept me going for quite some time now. 


We will move on. We must. I still have an NPR station to run and a food/arts/travel critic job to procure. Let's see where we are in another 10 years.

Popular posts from this blog

The Edge of Seventeen

It's that time of year when the blog musings center on my grief journey. Every year, it seems like we are busy with end-of-the-year school activities and the start of summer, planning vacations, and then (kablam)...it's almost July 9.  Grief is funny. Grief is weird. I remember very early after Charlotte died, I watched the movie Rabbit Hole.  There's an amazingly poignant scene where Nicole Kidman's character is talking with another woman who lost a child over 10 years before (played by Dianne Wiest). She talks about grief being like a brick in your pocket. It never goes away. Sometimes you can even forget it's there. But it comes back and makes its presence known from time to time. And (she says) "it's what you have of them."    I probably did not fully realize then what a powerful and true analogy that is. As time goes on, our grief changes. Yet, it is always there on the edge of things. It sits in that pocket and sometimes makes itself known.  This

Bittersweet Sixteen

I think about Charlotte every single day. However, this time of year, I'm flooded with all kinds of memories as we commemorate the anniversary of her birth. This year feels like a bit of a milestone. Sixteen.  If cancer had not taken her life back in 2010, I have a feeling I would be planning a massive birthday celebration this year. 16 always feels like a landmark year in someone's life.  I have been thinking a great deal about the last birthday party we had for Charlotte in 2009. We didn't know it at the time, but we were halfway through her treatment journey. We had been through three major brain surgeries and a few rounds of inpatient chemotherapy. Treatments were not going well. In fact, right after her birthday, we would make the trip to Houston, Texas where we would settle in for about 10 weeks of proton beam radiation treatments and a new customized chemotherapy protocol. This was the unspoken "last chance option" to beat that aggressive brain tumor into

Tis the Season for Leaks

Now that we've had a few posts to settle in with one another, let's get personal, shall we?   It's almost an understatement to say that this has been a difficult year.  The last few weeks, especially, brought back a flood of memories.  This time last year, we were in the home stretch .   We were watching our daughter die.  I have spent the weeks since Thanksgiving thinking of our final days with her.  I miss her terribly.  I miss her laugh and her smile and her stories.  I cry a lot.   This is going to sound funny but I don't cry the way I used too.  In the past, if I got upset, you would KNOW that I was upset.  Now, it just kind of leaks out.  I'll be sitting somewhere: waiting in line at the store, working, driving in my car....and the tears just start to flow.  I don't even necessarily "break down" and sob.  I just leak.   Anything can trigger the leak.  Usually it's a memory of Charlotte.  Sometimes I'm reminded of a child or a family i