Well I might have screwed that up.

The job interview went great. Well enough that I have a second one next week, and they’ve started calling references. Yay. But, since I found out about the second interview, I’ve been really conflicted because this job would probably mean not going to Camp. I want to talk to them about it and find out, but in all likelihood I wouldn’t be able to go. I talked to Madeline about that, which was sad especially since I got her to go, and now I might have to abandon her.

I called Camp today to talk to them about when they might need me and let them know about the job and what I was working with. And found that they have been hiring so as not to need me. Apparently all the times in the past that I’ve dragged my feet a little and had to figure out a subletter and talked about leaving my cats, and the fact that I hadn’t called them sooner has worked against me. They were trying to save me that trouble, and also enough people have replied and been hired for the things that they need me for. They told me to call back when I knew, and they would call if something changed and someone fell through or something. But they are also really tight on money this year, and might not be able to afford me.

I’m a little bit crushed. I’m so used to being needed there, and so comfortably entrenched in feeling tied to it (sometimes to the point where I resent it, I feel like I’m not working there because I want to, but because I’m needed, and guilted into it) that to suddenly be told that I might not be necessary is upsetting.

Moral- If you love something, don’t whine about it, and make it known that you love it. If you might be available for something, make it known that you might be, even if it’s not definite. I felt like they were taking me for granted a little, and all the while I was completely taking them for granted.

I recently reread The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver, and one of the characters had the beautiful habit of malapropism, and in one she talks about taking something for granite. And that’s appropriate here. Camp was my summer rock.


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