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Counting Blessings in the Twilight Zone 10/22/2006 7:14:21 AM
Just because all hell breaks loose is no reason to lose your head, your focus or your faith. Sunday, October 22, 2006
3:51 a.m.
I have been awake for about 20 minutes. Long enough to pay homage to the porcelain gods, make coffee, feed my cats, make the bed and boot up old Granny. I’ve had a most disturbing dream. It was so intense and frightening that I woke up before I cold complete it. It disturbed me so; that it never occurred to me to remain in the dream just it case it should it be some kind of message. You see, I’ve had dreams that turned out to be premonitions before. They are always vivid and always disturb me into consciousness.
In the dream I’m sitting at my desk at my current job. A good acquaintance (I won’t call her a friend because we don’t communicate outside work) who works in Accounts Payable approaches my desk. She has a piece of paper that she places in front of me and asks, “Iva, is this your phone number?” It is a close match. Two numbers in the final four digits are transposed, and I mention the similarity and point out the transposition.
The paper is a kind of invoice. She goes on to explain that calls associated with this number have been charged to the company to the tune of $1,700. In the dream I’m shocked and like those dreams where you are running, but your legs feel like lead and you don’t seem to be making headway, I felt helpless. The feeling of helplessness and fear snapped me awake at 3:30.
During the first moments after waking up, I spent a bit of time asking questions that I should have asked in the dream. Is there a way to get a detail of these calls? What dates and times of day were these calls made? Were they made from that number and charged to the company? Were they made from an extension within the offices to another number and charged here? WHAT!?
I was unable to return to slumber after this and since I’ve been away from the “pen” for a while, it became urgent that I write about it. Many prompts to write have been nagging me recently and I’ve ignored them all. This one could not be ignored.
Some might say, “It’s just a dream, girl. After all, you did have fried food for dinner last night. You did spend yesterday morning in the DMV and you did get some extensive, albeit much-needed physical activity afterward hanging out with you son. You also passed out on the sofa in a physically impossible position for 4 hours before finally turning in.” Having experienced the hot wings and pizza effect on my dream state before, I would ordinarily agree, but I’ve also experienced vivid dreams that later turned out to be some sort of heads-up.
Lately, there has been this wacky vibe in my life. I’ve examined the incidents associated with this vibe. Some of it could just be part of living on planet Earth. Shit happens, you know? Part of it could be self-inflicted, and I certainly want to identify those parts and take steps to be my own therapist .
Perhaps this wacky vibe is just my own mind playing tricks on me, but based on the incidents, timing and results, God could be trying to send me a bigger message. I can remember hearing somewhere that God will take his hands off you long enough for you to wake up and realize you need Him and act accordingly. While His hand is away, the enemy can ride roughshod. These incidents seem to be the work of the enemy and had me thinking there was some kind of curse involved. Despite that, the resolutions of these issues are interwoven with Divine intervention. It’s like God’s hand is there to lessen the pain of these fiery darts so I’m not discouraged and continue on the path He has laid out for me.
It’s tough to pinpoint where these wacky incidents begin, so I will start with January 2004. Mid-month I was informed that my position with a company had been eliminated. I’d been with the company for four years, and held this particular position for one. I was given six weeks of severance and sent on my way. The severance was a blessing, but I knew I had to find employment. It was back to basics. I began pounding Monster.com and every temp agency I could find. Within two weeks, I was placed at another company in a tem-to-hire position. A blessing since this was long before the severance ran out.
This is where the real fun begins. At the interview, the Business Manager and I hit it off like old girlfriends. Good working chemistry and similar ages and interests indicated that I’d be a good asset to her as well at the company, so she hired me. Based on the job description, the work would be challenging, but I was totally capable. My recruiter at the temp agency also felt that was the case which is why she sent my resume over and encouraged them to interview me. In the end, the job description mutated at the hands of four busy executives who were hungry for an assistant, and I ended up doing that most of the time although my described duties only included minimal proofing and editing of their projects.
Some nights I was there until 8:00. I chased down FedEx trucks to make sure packages got out that day for next-day delivery to clients; I proofread 70-page documents given to me at 3:00 with instructions to get it out by end of business. Some of these documents had sentences a paragraph long. I’ve been given up to four lengthy documents after lunch that had to be proofed, edited, corrected, printed, bound, shipped and sent electronically in PDF files all with instructions for EOB distribution. On of the execs loved to use self-designed words like “compellingness” for me to try and decipher so they made sense.
All the while, the executives complained. They complained that I didn’t have a degree; they complained that it was taking me too long to do my job because surely their writing didn’t require that much polish and maybe my abilities weren’t good enough to handle things. With each complaint, the BM confronted me with issues they cited. My explanations, complete with back-up documents and proof, satisfied her that I was doing my job, but the executives continued to complain. I suggested that I sit down with each executive and discuss their expectations of me. My hope was that we could define my job description a bit clearer. Her response was, “Iva, it’ll never happen.” Perhaps their absence from the initial interview process was a sign of their disconnection from such trivialities as who the assistant might be.
Actually, let’s just be honest. There was only one “Monk-ish” individual that whined. I remember a scathing email from the BM in response to one of his obviously defaming emails about me. I was in her office as she typed her response and felt proud that she defended my abilities, but I could see the handwriting on the wall. This atmosphere was burning me out. My attitude was beginning to be affected because it wasn’t just the executives. An individual on the research team had begun to run to the BM with all kinds of nit-picky complaints as well. “The plant on her desk it too big. How come you let her print envelopes on the big copier? Is she supposed to park there? Why can’t she do stuff for us, too?”
Once, we were in a local bar for an employee outing. I lit up a cigarette; it is a bar after all. Instead of this person asking me if I would mind not smoking in the room we were in, or going to the bar instead, she said, “Did Evelyn (I’ve used poetic license and changed the name of the BM) give you permission to smoke?” Why neither of these individuals felt they could deal with their perceived issues one-on-one with me is beyond my comprehension. The method of walking past my desk to go and tattle to mommy was a constant irritant. The smoking comment was really a last straw for me. If she had said, “Iva, would you mind going into the bar to smoke? Some of us are sensitive to it.” I would have gladly gone into the next room. Really, I would. The method she used, however, grated on me really hard and I had a quick-witted comeback, which I can’t remember now. It was edgy and probably offended her more than my smoking did. I spent the rest of the outing away from the group. They never embraced me professionally, and I had no desire to develop any personal relationships. Most of them were anal and I have never mixed well with those types.
I’d had enough, and so had the Business Manager. After about six months of this, the two of us went outside for a smoke. She looked at me, I looked at her, and she started the conversation with, “You know the guys have been having problems with your work.” I followed with, “Do you believe they are justified?” She responded, “No, but it usually takes about six months for them to burn out an assistant.” I said, “Okay. Should I finish out the day or just leave right now?” She suggested that I could go whenever I got ready, but I informed her that I would complete the tasks on my desk before I left. I am, after all, a professional. Having my dismissal be mutual was a blessing because it freed me from the stress and anguish this job was generating and enabled me to sign up for unemployment benefits
In the meantime, while working for this company, my car needed a tune-up. Silly me, why did I choose to take it to a Precision Tune? When I picked it up after the service, my gas mileage was worse than it had been before, the center caps on my wheels all fell off within a week, the plastic wire cover in the engine compartment was cracked and the throttle body gasket was broken. Now, I know cars. I’m no expert, but I know enough to know that the extensive “inspection” they hype as a benefit is performed to locate issues that they can point out and subsequently charge you for repairing. All I wanted was a tune up! That doesn’t require that you take all my wheels off to look around and in the process break the clips behind the center caps causing them to fly off in transit. Those suckers are $50 a pop! If your short, fat ass can’t reach the spark plugs and you have to lean on (and break) my wire cover area to get to them, maybe you should use a stepstool.
When I went back and confronted them, they denied any responsibility. My car is now systematically falling apart. Surely they don’t think I’ll bring it back to them after such sabotage. I began looking for a different vehicle for fear the sabotage would result in much deeper issues down the road.
With a nasty divorce under my belt, the subsequent financial challenges and a credit rating in the toilet, I was limited in what I could get financed. I found a car I believed to be perfect. It was something I’d always wanted and priced right. It had a few small cosmetic issues, but for the price, I knew I could manage. Another sign was that initially, my Credit Union would not finance it because it had a couple thousand miles more than they wanted to work with. I ignored this sign and orchestrated a plan based on my past experience with Cadillac. I’d owned four with that engine type that had served me well, and was able to convince the Credit Union board that it was a good investment. They agreed. The payment and my insurance saved me a total of $100 a month. A blessing.
Sure enough, the car began to die. Oil leaks, hoses, etc, etc, etc. I realized that the vehicle probably had been sitting un-driven for longer than the owner let on, but understanding cars, I thought perhaps I could systematically overcome these issues and still have a dependable car with a perfectly low payment. Working for the company I was with, however, prevented me from doing much because of the low salary. So, I babied my little El Dorado along and prayed that she would behave. The car continued to have challenges. Some that caused me not to be able to make it to work. The public transportation system in that area left much to be desired. Nobody seemed to want to pick me up in the mornings while my car was out of commission and I’m sure my absence those few days played into my quick departure.
After leaving/being dismissed, I called the agency that placed me. The recruiter could barely believe the stories I told her about the place. She couldn’t imagine they would not be satisfied with my work because she was familiar with it and my work ethic. She called me about six months after this and confided that in the interim she had interviewed two other women who had worked there before and they mirrored my comments. At the time, she sent me out on every temp assignment she could to keep me working. This is another blessing, I’m grateful for that.
After another six months, limping along in my prayed-up and anointed El Dorado and $10-$12-an-hour assignments, a friend asked me to go to a movie. “You need to get out of the house and have some fun.” He was right, of course, so off we went to see something mindless and entertaining and featuring Wesley Snipes as an ass-kicking vampire killer with cool toys. He was a blessing.
While waiting for the movie to begin seating, my old boss from the company that laid me off approached with his spouse. It was great to see them and we chatted for a bit. He and two others, who had also been laid off from that company, had begun a new business of their own and were making serious waves in the industry. He asked what I was doing now, and I explained my employment situation. He asked me to send him my resume. Within a week, someone else who had been laid off from that same company called to set up an interview. Blessed again.
Having run into the old boss a few days before Christmas and interviewed within a week of submitting my resume, I began work for the new company as a contractor on January 10th. They were paying me well and enough to begin catching up bills that had gotten behind because of my previously-sporadic employment. It was a 90-day contract renewable if needed.
Keep in mind that my car is still having mechanical issues. Since my salary in the new gig was better, (another blessing) when my water pump went 100 yards from my driveway (blessing), it was time to begin a repair regimen. I found a shop willing to work with me and explained that I wanted to bring my little El Dawg back to as pristine condition as possible. The shop owner agreed it was a worthwhile project, so I had her towed. He began with the coolant system. The car was in the shop for two weeks. They would plug one hole and another leak would sprout. I felt I was in the Twilight Zone. I used up every favor I could to get rides to and from work. It was only 1.5 miles from home, but still a bit far for my smoking, overweight and sedentary body to handle with a briefcase and purse and the change of clothes and toiletries I’d need after such a workout.
Fortunately, the shop was less than a block from work. When my car was finally ready, the shop owner’s wife, who worked in the business office, commented that she thought her husband would be asking my car to marry him soon since they’d spent such quality time together. That was more of a blessing, because I wanted a mechanic that had a strong interest in helping me reach my vehicular goals. After a $1,300 repair bill, which they allowed me to pay in installments while still driving my car (blessed), I was on the road again and thinking about taking a little trip.
Within a week, those thoughts were dashed when I began seeing oil spots in my parking space again, but this time in a different location. Based on that location, I felt it would be another three-week repair. This was in the area of the engine seals. A car that sits for a long period of time should be gone through to have every bit of rubber, hoses, and belts replaced. Worthwhile, but how was I going to get back and forth to work for the time it could take to repair her? I couldn’t afford a rental car as well as the repair bill.
I had endured a year of babying a car that needed major TLC. The car lasting that long was a blessing. Never let it be said that prayer doesn’t work. Despite that, I thought it was time I upgraded. My El Dorado was about 13 years old. The Credit Union would only finance a car whose average book value was $7,500, so I knew I couldn’t choose a car new enough to fit my needs and have them finance it at the lower interest. When the company renewed me after three months (blessed again), I went car shopping. I found financing online through Lending Tree and went to the responding dealership to shop. The only car they had that fit my needs was a Chrysler. It was a beautiful car and only four years old. The payment was higher than I wanted and made more so by the outrageous interest, but I was getting a good, dependable, newer car out of the deal, right? I drove my new Chrysler to the shop to make the final installment on my El Dorado repairs.
So, with a car payment three times that of my El Dorado and having possession of the car less than three months, I was back out on the pavement after only six months with the company. It seems they weren’t getting the contracts they had hoped and could no longer support my salary. I felt as if they may have had other challenges with my performance, but the work was not consistent and I found myself thumb-twiddling and doing busy work much of the time. After my experience with the previous company, I was beginning to question my abilities. It was back to basics again. I hit the temp agencies and started finding work the best way I could. I posted my resume on all the prominent job search sites and put in applications at a rate of about 10 per day. My new car payment was going to make things a little rougher this time around.
About two months later, a head hunter in New York sent me an email. They explained that they found my resume online and knew of a job in Bethesda, Maryland that they wanted to submit my resume to. I agreed. I was working a temp job in Downtown Raleigh with a non-profit that I had temped with before. When the Director found that I was out of work again, she requested that I come back. She is a very intense and spiritual woman and needed someone to help organize her thoughts and projects. She, too, was a blessing to me.
Friday evening, September 9th, I was really tired and didn’t get home until about 7:30. I backed into my usual space in front of my duplex apartment. I closed the sunroof and windows, shut off the engine, gathered my briefcase and purse and got out. I gave my car a look as I pressed the remote lock on my keychain and winced at how dirty it was and made a mental note to call my detail guy. The horn blew and lights flashed and I turned to head into the house. I walked up my front stoop, into the front door, through the living room, into the kitchen, put my purse and briefcase down in a chair and went out the back door to check the mail.
My neighbors who had been outside with their kids were running toward the front of the building. Someone yelled, "There she is! She's OK!" They were pointing at me. I said, “Who? Me?” One woman said, "Whew! Girl, we thought you were in there." I said, "In where?" She replied, "Your car," and pointed toward the front parking lot. I walked to the edge of the building, heart pounding and gut sinking as the thought of what they were saying drove home. I peered around the corner. There was my Chrysler, ass-out and nose-down in the bushes. It had rolled out of the space, jumped the curb completely (all 4 wheels were on the other side), took out a split-rail fence and stopped on a pine tree about 8 inches in diameter. Had it not been for that little pine tree, it could have continued down the incline and slammed into the brick wall of the apartment complex at the bottom.
I realized that the car was still in reverse because I had never put it in park. I know, those of you with some car smarts are asking how I could get my keys out of the switch with the car still in gear. Good question! I will share more on that later. At this point, I’m just glad that none of the children were in the path of the car when it went on this extreme sports adventure without anyone behind the wheel.
Upon closer inspection, I could see that the topmost fence rail had taken out the windshield. It was not shattered totally, but small shards of glass were around the wipers and about five spider cracks were at the base of the glass. The rail was resting on the hood. The driver's side mirror was torn off and dangling by the wires. A fence post had scraped the driver's side from the front wheel well to mid-way the rear passenger door. The right front bumper was buckled and the fog lamp set within it was cockeyed. I called my insurance company.
My girlfriend and I had planned to hang out and grab a bite while her kids were at the skating rink. She drove by on her way to drop them off and saw my car in the woods. She left skid marks slowing down to turn into my complex and find out what happened. She was amazed at how calm I was. I told her that good insurance coverage will make you calm. She took them to the rink and stopped back by. By this time, a police officer was there examining the incident.
Now, I’m the daughter of a Southern Baptist preacher. He taught me early on that deception may pay off short-term, but in the long run you have to answer for it. Honesty is the best way to go, so I told the officer that I had left the car in reverse. He never considered that I should not have been able to get the key out, but instead charged me with failure to secure my vehicle before exiting. If someone had been hurt, it would have been much worse. My friend was quite upset and was beginning to argue with the officer. Not wanting to piss him off, and since absent-mindedness is no excuse, I took steps to calm her and get her to be quiet. At the time, she was pursuing a law degree at night and was very sensitive to the idea that my rights were being violated. I felt she was a blessing to come to my defense so vehemently.
The officer completed his report and my insurance company sent a tow truck. The car was winched out of the ditch. I had to climb over the bushes and get into the passenger side to access the driver’s seat, turn the switch on and put the car in neutral. Still in the seat as the wrecker hauled me out, the rear wheels cleared the 10-inch-high curb and the car’s body scraped horribly the rest of the way.
The car seemed drivable, so I decided to take her to the shop myself on Monday morning. I had an interview on that day at 8:30 that I didn’t want to miss and the appointment with the appraisal adjuster at 10:30. The tow truck driver mentioned that the shop was closed anyway at that time on a Friday and located in a questionable side of town. He didn't recommend leaving it unsecured over the weekend. I agreed with him. My insurance covered the damage to the fence, all the repairs, the tow truck and the rental car. What a blessing to have good insurance.
I went to the interview, they hired me on a temp-to-hire basis and I worked a short notice at the non-profit. I’m blessed because the salary is higher and the possibility of a permanent position is eminent. Two weeks had passed since the New York head hunter’s email. I hadn’t heard back, so I deleted it. Forty-eight hours later, after working the new assignment for about a week, I received a phone call from the head hunter. The folks in Bethesda wanted to interview me over the phone. The current assignment was a very long commute, and I was growing weary of it, so I agreed. The pay at the position I would be interviewing for didn’t seem like enough to survive in the DC area, but I knew that opportunities in my field were more abundant there. Ten minutes after the phone interview, the head hunter called and offered the job to me. Do you see a blessing here, as well? I asked that they give me a day to think about it. I went home and crunched the numbers with the help of my son who was attending college in Maryland. He was a blessing because and a good resource since he’d been in that area for three years.
Despite the small salary versus the cost of living in the District, I decided to accept. I had struggled before; I’d just be doing it in a different location. They provided no moving expenses, but I had a refund on one of my son’s student loans, which he assured me was not earmarked for anything and that his tuition and expenses were covered. This is a blessing, too. Within 10 days I had moved to a small apartment in Maryland. I began work on October 11th and returned to my Raleigh apartment the first week of November to clean it out and finalize my business with the landlord.
The apartment in Maryland was about half the size of the one in Raleigh so I had to sell much of my furniture and my washer and dryer. I had a yard sale and pulled in over $500. This blessing helped offset the return trip and the fact that my current overhead was about $300 more than my bring-home pay. This overhead did not include groceries, gasoline, vehicle maintenance, or if I needed underwear. So, things got kind of hairy during the first months.
Within a week of returning from finalizing my business in Raleigh, the transmission on my Chrysler went out. It was a blessing that it didn’t go out until I was backing into my parking space at home. It sat in that space for another week while I tried to decide what to do. I found a transmission shop near my home and carefully and deliberately crept my way there in my disabled car. The repair estimate was $3,000. I had to get her fixed, so despite the fact that I knew I didn’t have the money and probably wouldn’t in a million years, I told them to go ahead and at least diagnose the severity of the thing. You see, with all these blessings, my faith has strengthened. They dropped the tranny out and called me. The mechanic asked if the car had been in an accident and gone over a curb.
Well, of course it had! I explained the curb-jumping incident to him and he asked if I’d filed an insurance claim. Well, of course I had! He said, “Well, lady. You probably need to reopen it because this car ain’t even got fifty-thousand miles on it yet. Your tranny shouldn’t go out that quick and we can see some damage. Just have the adjuster call me.”
Here I am again with vehicle challenges. This time, however, I had one of the world’s most effective public transit systems at my disposal. What a blessing! So, the day after the transmission died, I took the Washington Area Metro Rail, or Metro as it’s called. I took it for the six weeks it took for the location of a shop, diagnosis, revisit by the adjuster, and repair. The adjuster took two weeks to even come out and look at the car. There was some mix-up between the North Carolina adjuster connecting with one in Maryland. With all the little snags, I was beginning to think I was in the Twilight Zone again.
They did agree to pay for most of the repair and provided me with a rental car. Here I begin to realize that God is still maintaining watch over me and can look back and count all the blessings thus far. I owed a balance of $600 on the transmission. This figure was still out of my financial reach, but a dear friend who lives near me agreed to tap into her reserves and help me out. I was cautioned to handle my business first, as this was not money she was sacrificing, but to get myself on my feet, then worry about paying her back. I was grateful, and got on my knees that night to thank God for blessing me with a good friend. I got my car back 10 days before Christmas.
Within a week, there was something leaking into my parking space. Although the substance was not the right color, I thought I should return it to the transmission shop for a look, since their work is guaranteed for the life of the car. When they put it up on the rack, I walked under to take a look for myself. This time, it was the oil pan. A crescent-shaped crack was nestled next to the drain plug. I drove to the nearest service station, bought two quarts of oil and checked my levels every morning before driving to work while I figured this one out. Rod Serling, why do you taunt me so? Still, it was a blessing that the crack was small and manageable in the interim.
An acquaintance who had worked as a car salesman proved to be a blessing and offered his assistance. I was able to get the part at his cost and have it repaired at a discount. The mechanic he introduced me to had worked for the dealership for many years and owed my friend a favor. I got my oil pan repaired in less than one day and for a smaller cost than if I’d had to arrange for the repair on my own. A blessing, but the $250 it cost me put a deeper hole in my bottom line.
Remember the student loan refund? It turns out that my son’s housing had not been paid. He lived in an apartment on campus and there was a mix-up between the school and the loan providers. His housing was not paid and he was evicted from the apartment and a vacancy in a regular dorm room was located. Meantime, Mom has already spent the money, so there is no way she can intervene and make things right. My son and I acknowledged our mutual mistake and chalked it up to experience in the Twilight Zone. My son is a blessing for being mature enough to understand that this was both our faults.
Because of my low salary, I was late with my rent for three months. It’s difficult to pay rent and car payment at the first of the month when your bring-home barely pays the rent. Each time I paid my rent on the 15th of the month; the landlord would begin the eviction process and charge me $50 for court fees in addition to a 5% late charge. Stress was mounting. I still owed my friend and with late fees, disconnection threats and the knowledge that working where I was would not cut it forced me to make a move. I managed to pay my rent on the first of the month, but that put the car payment late. I was running about a month and a half behind on it.
I had a brief chat with my supervisor. Since the job was a government contract, he had no knowledge of the bottom line. He just knew what the expected work was and how to complete it. When I explained what my salary was, he seemed flabbergasted and said, “No wonder we can’t keep anyone in these positions. The contractor is low-balling the salary to the point people can’t survive! I’m going to hate to lose you, Iva, because you’ve made some great progress on this project, but you really should find better work so you can live. What you are making is pitifully low for this area.” This man was a blessing for understanding my situation and validating I was doing what I had to do.
With my boss’ understanding, I hit the pavement again. I signed up with every agency, posted an updated resume online and started sending out applications to every place I could. I interviewed with the Smithsonian, the Department of Energy, and many more. Beginning in mid-February, the frequency of interviews increased. I found that in the normally casual jeans environment, I was sporting a business suit and pumps to work most days. By late March, my boss approached me and commented, “Something should happen for you soon because my phone has been ringing off the hook with people checking your references.” A blessing.
I began looking at the number of fees and costs of struggling. Over-extending my checking account was costing me about $60 per pay cycle and I remembered my spiritual training. I should tithe to “rebuke the devourer” and protect my finances. I was spending more than my tithe on these penalties. So, I prayed and before paying any bills, I sent 10% to my favorite ministry. Within a week of making that decision, I got a call from an agency in Raleigh, of all places. At first, I thought I may have made a Freudian slip and applied to this agency out of sheer homesickness. The urban lifestyle was taking a toll on this old country girl and I longed for fresh air and trees.
The agent explained that she got my resume from Monster.com and I seemed qualified, but that the position was actually in Alexandria, Virginia. After giving her the okay to submit my resume for consideration, I went back to my Monster account to find the job description in my list of resumes submitted. It was advertised at a pay rate that was $5,000 more than my current salary. Still small compared to the cost of living, but certainly better. She called me the next day to set up an interview. I’m feeling very blessed at this point.
I set it up for Thursday afternoon and left work early that day. I interviewed with the person who was vacating the position, her counterpart and the Resource Manager’s assistant. It went very well and I felt they responded positively. I decided to wait and call the agent back once I got out of traffic and home to tell her how it went. The drive home would take about 40 minutes. In twenty minutes, my cell was ringing. The agent sounded excited. “Iva! Your interview must have gone very well because they want you to come back and interview with the executives tomorrow.” Woo hoo! I’m so very blessed.
It was a payday, so I got up and logged onto my computer and sent my tithe along. The interview was early morning, so I donned the suit and pumps, threw my jeans in the back seat and drove to Alexandria. I arrived early, not sure how traffic would be that time of day. I sat down with three execs and felt remarkably relaxed. I finished the interview and headed to Bethesda to begin my work day. On the way, I called the agent and told her I thought it went well. She expected a quick response because they wanted to fill the position quickly and said she’d get back to me as soon as she heard.
I got to work, changed into my jeans and comfortable shoes and set about my duties for the day. I stared at my cell periodically, but it just didn’t ring. Tension was mounting because I really thought the interview went well. I finally couldn’t take the suspense any more and called the agency. My recruiter sounded so excited. “Hi, Iva! Well?” I asked her what she meant. She replied, “Did you get my voicemails?” Apparently my phone was having challenges. I said I had not. She said, “Well, they want you! They made an offer.”
When she told me what the dollar amount was, I almost passed out. I gasped and grew very silent. She said, “Iva, are you okay?” You see, the figure was $5,000 more than they advertised the position for, which resulted in a $10k raise for moi! This meant I could actually eat and put gas in my car and maybe even have money left over for drawers, after catching up on past due balances, of course. These are blessings beyond the imagination.
I said, “Oh, my God! Are you serious?” She said, “Yes, they were very impressed and want you to start as soon as possible.” I told her I could start in a week and gave my notice that day. Since it was a contract position and since I was starving as a result of the low pay, I didn’t feel enough loyalty to give a longer notice. I used that week to train folks on the new procedures I’d put in place, after all, I am a professional. Still, I left skid marks in the parking lot on my last day.
Now that my salary is increased, I called my car finance company to try and make some sort of arrangement to keep them from taking my transportation. They agreed to put two payments at the end of the cycle. This bought me time to recover while my transition from being paid weekly to being paid bi-weekly kicked in. What a blessing this is.
That was mid-April. It was a temp-to-hire position with full-time, permanent employment beginning in 90-days, provided I worked out. I made it my business to “work out” and within two months had earned an award complete with certificate of appreciation and $200 for my effort on a project. One day, my new boss noticed that my time sheet did not reflect hours for the Memorial Day holiday and questioned it. I explained that my temp agency did not provide for paid holidays. He said, “Well, let’s remedy that. What do I need to do to begin the process of making you permanent?” I quickly found out what that was and started the ball rolling. He was and remains a blessing to me.
They made me permanent in July with an additional $4,000 raise and a carrot dangled. The carrot meant that if I went back to school and sealed off a degree, they would move me up a salary grade. This is exciting because the company offers tuition reimbursement. With five semesters in a four-year institution under my belt, an associate’s degree to enable me to grab that carrot should be a piece of cake for a sharp cookie like me. Blessings abound.
Since then, I have completed a performance plan that included my continuing education. I am nearing completion of a project that I have worked hard on and received kudos for, and have developed good working relationships with my counterpart and superiors. My work is respected and I feel at home being able to do what I love and am good at. I prayed for this kind of blessing.
Now, back to the dream. You can see how this dream could be upsetting. This is the kind of thing employees lose their jobs over, not to mention the respect of their co-workers. I don’t know what the meaning of the dream was and I probably shouldn’t worry. So, I’ve prayed and put it in God’s hands to work out for me.
He has been right there all along, and I expect that to continue. Sometimes the enemy wants us to focus on the bad so we take our focus off God; even if he has to fabricate circumstances to make that happen. I’ll have none of that, thank you very much.
