Pouring Myself a Cup of Ambition

From 1976 until around 1989, I spent a lot of time staring at my shoes. Talking to people was completely overwhelming, so I decided to play the piano instead. In fact, I spent so much time playing the piano and not talking to people that I scored a piano scholarship, which I forfeited a year later after deciding that attending a performance class at 7:40 in the morning was entirely too early for 19 year old me. I then changed my major from piano performance to communication and then I changed it to nursing, elementary education, occupational therapy, and nutrition before finally settling on psychology with religion as my area of concentration. I still spend a lot of time staring at my shoes, but now it’s 25% because I’m afraid of people and 75% because I wear cute shoes. (19% of you would not agree that these shoes (today’s pair) are cute. Individual differences make the world a better place. Last night I watched a lady purchase a box of Raisinets.)

The big lesson for this week is “It’s okay when a friend says no. Everyone has the right to say no. It’s NOT okay when a friend ignores you or denies knowing you. In fact, it’s twisted and weird.” Also, if everyone in the house is cranky and a child expresses a hankering for frozen yogurt? I will jump up and grab my keys and off we will go. Even if it’s raining. I do this not only because I love my children, but because I love cake batter frozen yogurt with pineapple, blackberries, and walnuts dumped on top. (I tend to go light on the pineapple and blackberries and heavy on the walnuts. It’s a pay per ounce sort of game, and fruit can be heavy.)

So, it looks like I’ll be on a job hunt when school starts up, which is in about four weeks. Because I feel the need to utilize my college education, I’m looking for a job that will allow me to perform a Beethoven sonata before talking to children about magnesium injections as we tie socks to laundry baskets, flip through the DSM-5, and pray. Any leads are appreciated. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

10 thoughts on “Pouring Myself a Cup of Ambition”

  1. You are a special young lady, well to me anyway you are young, and I believe that you can do anything you put your mind to.

  2. So, what you really mean is that you will be taking over as manager of a knitting supply store just down the street from that fro-yo place, right?

    As a fellow former psych major, I feel your pain.

    Great job on the ambition potion though, Angela! I’m with Mj, above. You can do anything! But, convincing all those seemingly 12-year-old hiring managers of that? Absolutely terrifying prospect!!

  3. I teach piano at a community college and this is a startlingly accurate job description. The praying happens right before recitals :)

  4. I used to love my Birkis, but my arthritic feet preclude my wearing them any more. (“You have the feet of an 80 year old!” my podiatrist said happily. I was glad ONE of us was happy.)

    I have an English literature and anthropology double major, with a year of an MFA in Acting … and no idea what I’m going to do when I grow up. I think you are in a better position than I am when it comes to a job search.

  5. While I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, for now I use my English degree to substitute teach. If I see anything that may work for you, I will pass it on. And yes, it is weird to ignore your friend and pretend not to know her. Is this a child or an adult? Sounds quite childish.

  6. Raisins and anything involving raisins are the worst. Also, one time in effort to beat the scales, I put all the fruit on the bottom of the cup. It did not beat the scales. In fact it was more expensive.

    Good luck job hunting! I’m sure you’ll find the best job for you.

  7. I’ve worn Birks since about 1970, and my feet seem to think all other shoes are trying to kill me, which is probably right. So I think your shoes are lovely.

    I’ve been retired more than a dozen years now, and I’m so busy now people think it’s nuts. But it’s not. All the years I was a “working mom” I got through it by telling myself and anyone else who cared, “This is not my career. This is how I earn a living.”

    It enabled me to get through the day-to-day commute and working for stupid people and doing things that were not creative or rewarding to me except for the paycheck, then go home to my LIFE where there was a husband (who also earned a living) and kids and dogs and books gardening and knitting and painting and all the things I love and wait for the day I could retire and devote all my time to those things. It’s worked out well for me.

    You have many talents, put one or more of them to use to earn a living, then do your living where it matters. You’ll be fine.

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