I am not in Iowa meeting Amma with Jess, as I planned. Instead, I am here on the pond, fulfilling my motherly duties and editing a test call for a company that provides transcripts of quarterly conference calls for publicly traded companies.
Creating a transcript of these calls is not easy, but I feel pretty good about it. Although the company specified that they're looking for MBAs or people studying for an MBA, I applied and was selected. Yep, me, the college dropout.
Why would they consider me? Because I spent seven long years writing investor relations and public relations for The Wasband's company. Didn't get paid. Rarely got acknowledged. Never got thanked. It's quite a kick that, so many years later, that experience might be the key to giving me time to write.
Not long ago I put it out into the universe that I needed new ways to make a living, some combination that would leave time and mental energy for my real writing. And though this editing job is not yet mine, it's an opening, a possibility that would let me work 20 hours a week and write the rest of the time. (Well, whenever I'm not running the salon or taking care of my parents or Evan, now that he lives here again.)
If that possibility exists, there are others. And I'll keep looking until I find something that's right for me and my life. And I'll remember that even painful and difficult things can become valuable down the road.