Last night as I was returning from watching a movie I developed an awful headache just as I was remembering that I needed to write a blog post. I wasn't going to stay awake long enough to find out if I had a migraine.
So here is a few hours late post for Wednesday. After Monday's head to head with failure I called my mom for a wonderful conversation and then wrote back to camp, where I had applied, been accepted, and then I had said no. I wrote back and was given a very enthusiastic: "yes, we have a position. Please come!" So Tuesday I called in for an over the phone interview with a good friend I've known for years.
My parents met at camp and got married there, and worked there before we left the country. Going to camp is like going back. So I said yes. It felt like God has taken me for a loop. Camp was one of the first places I applied to even though I knew I would probably just turn it down in the end. Then I applied to what felt like a thousand more places and nothing worked out. I was so frustrated, and then He brought me back around to look at camp.
I'll make les money than I would at basically any other job I could have taken, though I do have the opportunity to apply for a scholarship. It will take more of my time than the other jobs. It will require more energy. I'll have to live at a camp instead of this lovely room to myself with my own bathroom and everything. At camp there's a good chance I'll have to hike up a hill to teach the bathroom. Camp will limit my access to technology by a lot, and at this point I don't even know if I'll be able to keep up on my blog. I may have to drop down to a weekly post.
But even with the list of negatives there's something about working for camp that just sort of feels right. I'll admit that it was tough to get calls from three of the places I'd applied to the moment I said yes to working at camp either telling me I was hired or asking me to come interview. But I had already said yes to camp, for the second time, and I think it's the right decision. Maybe that's just because in the end I didn't get much of a choice at all.
And here's a poem that really has nothing to do with anything, but at least it's a poem:
They all sing songs of Icarus,
ballads, stories, poems.
Fly too high,
touch the sun,
never fly again.
But who tells of that
other fear,
that pain of flying.
Displacement
as all the world below
starts to fade away, leaving
you
alone,
unforgivably alone,
in the vast expanse of sky.
So here is a few hours late post for Wednesday. After Monday's head to head with failure I called my mom for a wonderful conversation and then wrote back to camp, where I had applied, been accepted, and then I had said no. I wrote back and was given a very enthusiastic: "yes, we have a position. Please come!" So Tuesday I called in for an over the phone interview with a good friend I've known for years.
My parents met at camp and got married there, and worked there before we left the country. Going to camp is like going back. So I said yes. It felt like God has taken me for a loop. Camp was one of the first places I applied to even though I knew I would probably just turn it down in the end. Then I applied to what felt like a thousand more places and nothing worked out. I was so frustrated, and then He brought me back around to look at camp.
I'll make les money than I would at basically any other job I could have taken, though I do have the opportunity to apply for a scholarship. It will take more of my time than the other jobs. It will require more energy. I'll have to live at a camp instead of this lovely room to myself with my own bathroom and everything. At camp there's a good chance I'll have to hike up a hill to teach the bathroom. Camp will limit my access to technology by a lot, and at this point I don't even know if I'll be able to keep up on my blog. I may have to drop down to a weekly post.
But even with the list of negatives there's something about working for camp that just sort of feels right. I'll admit that it was tough to get calls from three of the places I'd applied to the moment I said yes to working at camp either telling me I was hired or asking me to come interview. But I had already said yes to camp, for the second time, and I think it's the right decision. Maybe that's just because in the end I didn't get much of a choice at all.
And here's a poem that really has nothing to do with anything, but at least it's a poem:
They all sing songs of Icarus,
ballads, stories, poems.
Fly too high,
touch the sun,
never fly again.
But who tells of that
other fear,
that pain of flying.
Displacement
as all the world below
starts to fade away, leaving
you
alone,
unforgivably alone,
in the vast expanse of sky.
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