things I messed up

My brain has been 100% devoid of any/all worthy thinking in the past month.  Something about the boxes and having the books on all the wrong shelves and not knowing *what* I’ve got in my kitchen, so I end up buying cinnamon three times (true story) and I don’t even like cinnamon.

In all of this, my failure to blog has been looming over me as one of those things I know I should be doing, there on the same list as meeting with the drainage specialists to figure out how to solve the water piling up around the drain outside the basement door.  I looked up a website that promised to give me 150 really good ideas for blog posts.  It gave me ten.  Maybe.  On a good day.  If I stretch it.

One of those ten was to write about regret – specifically one example where I just went horribly, horribly awry.  Not too hard to figure out what that one is going to be…  I was newly married, 25ish, and working as a glorified secretary at the Department of State.  I was bored out of my skull, looking desperately for a way to get myself some more work, when a contractor offered to double my salary in a weekend.  I said yes.

You’d think going from making $30k to making $60k would be an obvious choice.  And it was.  Except that the guy who was running the division made my skin crawl.  Like a Garbage song from the 90’s.  Within a week of me turning in my resignation, a new division called me up to tell me that they’d selected me for an opportunity which would have been hugely interesting, and I’d now have 10+ years as a federal employee behind my back.  And there is a long list of things that wouldn’t have happened to me and a whole different list of things would have happened to me instead.

And it isn’t necessarily the job change that I regret, though it was a dumb, impatient move.  It was that my gut said no, and I said yes to the job offer.  Every time I’ve ever gone contrary to my gut–for whatever reason–I’ve looked back and been mad at myself because I knew better.  And I’ve usually ignored my gut because I was trying to be logical, or nice, or whatever it is that young women are supposed to be.

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things I messed up

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