A Birthday Card and a Resignation Letter Walk into a CEO's Office...

Life is a series of decisions; hard decisions, easy decisions, good decisions, bad decisions. I have trouble deciding what toppings I want on my pizza, so making the big, life altering kinds of decisions is something I try to avoid. But sometimes, those decisions refuse to be ignored. Such was the case a few weeks ago when I turned my future into one big question mark.

It's 7:30am on a Wednesday in late August. I'm at my desk ready to dry heave, completely panicked, because... it's happening. I'm going to step down from my job without a clue what I'm going to do next. (Pause for "Are you crazy?!" mental shouting.)

Here's the deal. My job is amazing and so are the people that I work with. I've learned invaluable skills, traveled the country, and crafted messages for a massive brand. I've progressed further in my career than I could have ever dreamed in such a short amount of time, but that hasn't come without sacrifices. A lof of them. (And also some scars. Literally.) I know this big, scary decision will make me whole again, and I've been making excuses to put it off long enough.

Which brings us back to my mic drop moment.

I have a great amount of respect for my (now former) company's CEO, and I don't want to disappoint him. With my better judgment fogged by the weight of emotions I'm trying to wrangle, I walk into his office with what I deem to be a peace offering... in the form of a greeting card. My opening line:

"I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is, I have your birthday card. The bad news is, I also have my letter of resignation." 

I'm Writing a Book. Really.

Hello, 2015. I hope you're a heck of a lot better than 2014.

This is the time of year when everyone is making resolutions to stop eating sweets, find a new job and compliment one stranger a day. I'm not very good at keeping my resolutions. For example: still haven't finished reading The Three Musketeers, which was my resolution back at the turn of 2013. Whoops.

I don't even remember the characters' names.

In 2015, I've resolved to finish my book. Not Alexandre Dumas' book; MY book.

Yep. I'm writing a book. It all started about three years ago. I had just finished recounting the saga of my latest failed dating attempt to my best friend, Becca. She laughed and shook her head as she always does, then made a request:

"For my birthday this year I want you to write all of these stories down."

What best friend wants, best friend gets. So I started to write. I used to be a meticulous journal keeper, which meant I was able to reach as far back as my first-ever-kind-of-dating-situation circa age 15. And on I forged down memory lane; from first kisses to first loves to first broken hearts. And where has that gotten me? 37 chapters spread across 157 single-spaced pages. And counting. Becca is still waiting for her 23rd birthday gift. (My bad, B.)

So as my gift to Becca and to you, my loyal blog readers, an excerpt from chapter 6: "Bunny Boy"

New Year, New Nonsense

Oh, hello!

Let's all take a moment to relish in the fact that I am now embarking on my fourth year of ranting on this little piece of the blogosphere. From small beginnings involving way too much mayonnaise, a CAT-astrophe of epic proportions and treadmills, we've blossomed into lame pick-up lines, apartment lock-ins and my inability to be photographed alone.

Ah, sweet memories.

Moving on to a new year. Here are my 13 goals for 2013:

1. Convince one of my friends to buy a hedgehog. I would buy one myself, but I'm already in charge of one life, and that's about all I can handle at the moment. Therefore, if you are easily impressionable, please click here to see pictures of Buckley the hedgehog going shopping for a bed. And now you want a hedgehog, right? Please. Make my dreams (and yours) come true.

Want. Need. MUST HAVE. The mini bed and the hedgehog.

2. Go on the greatest vacation ever to Australia. Eat Pancakes on the Rocks. Swim in the ocean. Avoid being eaten by a shark. Learn to surf. Jump out of a plane. Etc. Etc. Etc.
2a. (Optional but preferable) Find an Australian husband.

Guess who will be in this exact spot in exactly one month? This girl.

Pancakes on the Rocks, get in my belly. If I can't have an Aussie husband, I'll settle for this.

3. Finish reading The Three Musketeers. Christmas 2011 I decided to be cultural (and cheap) and downloaded this literary classic for free on my Kindle. Since then, I've read 6 percent of the book. Off to a bit of a slow start on my cultural conquest, but 2013 is my year!

In need of a baby penguin

You know, no one ever tells you that looking for a job is basically a job in itself. An endless parade of resume editing, cover letter writing, poring over job listing websites, preparing for interviews, and fighting with hundreds of other college grads over a position that ends up going to someone "more experienced."

As my friend Kristen put it: "Don't get your hopes up because this year is all about rejection."

Womp Womp.

So today I was mentally updating my job hunt to-do list and thought to myself, "It's a wonder ANYONE has a job. This whole job hunting thing is rough."

And then I thought of the movie March of the Penguins.

The first thing I thought after I saw this movie was: Penguins are so cute!
The second thing I thought after I saw this movie was: HOW ARE THERE ANY PENGUINS STILL ALIVE ON THIS PLANET????

Incase you haven't seen the movie, Morgan Freeman narrates as you watch penguins migrate forever away to the middle of a frigid ice sheet to raise precious baby penguins. All fine and dandy. Except your survival chances as a penguin are apparently non-existent.

First the penguins walk up to 70 miles non-stop day and night to get to the breeding ground. An entire week of walking, walking, walking. Oh, and it's usually in the middle of a blizzard. Also, there is no other living thing anywhere around. Why not? Don't know if you heard, but it's pretty cold in Antarctica. How cold? According to Morgan Freeman's voiceover, the average temps are somewhere around -50 degrees Fahrenheit...during the afternoon when the sun is out. Doesn't that sound pleasant?

After the whole mating ritual thing momma penguin lays an egg and peaces out because she's been without food for way too long. (No living thing anywhere = no food for any penguins.) So the mom penguins walk those same 70 miles back to the ocean in search of sustenance where they most likely become dinner for hungry seals that are waiting for the penguins when  they arrive. In the meantime, dad stays to protect the egg. And there dad gets to sit, not moving, not eating, not doing anything, for TWO MONTHS. Can you imagine starving while sitting on a large rock-shaped thing in unbearable, freezing temperatures for two months? No thank you.

If dad miraculously survives that horrendous ordeal, the baby penguin hatches. Obviously it's hungry. Obviously dad can't really help solve the hunger problem since he hasn't seen a meal in 60 days. So it's all up to momma. What's that? Mom got eaten by a seal? Daddy and baby are both in trouble. If, however, mom somehow manages to walk all the way back to the ocean, stock up on food without being eaten herself, and then walk all the way back to the mating ground...the baby's survival rate goes up a tad. But here's the catch: mom and dad have to keep switching roles of who is going to go get food and who is going to protect the little one until the baby is strong enough to make the trek to the ocean. And each time one of the parents leaves, he or she runs the risk of freezing, starving, being eaten, or meeting some other tragic end. Plus all along there are these awful birds flying around the nesting area picking up baby penguins like little girls plucking dandelions out of the ground.

Are you seeing my connection here? I realize the penguins' situation is a bit (as in a lot) more extreme than mine, but...

AGAINST ALL THESE ODDS, HOW DO PENGUINS EXIST?
AGAINST ALL THESE ODDS, HOW DO RECENT COLLEGE GRADUATES GET JOBS?

Now don't worry, I'm choosing to see the silver lining in this metaphor. Because, you see, some baby penguins do survive. They walk to the ocean and eventually come back to the frigid ice sheet to have little baby penguins of their own.

It's April. I  graduate on May 7th. Then my life turns into a big ?  But I'm done worrying about it. I will continue to check items off my job hunt to-do list and eventually I know one of these potential jobs is going to turn into an actual job. In other words, one of these days I'm going to find a baby penguin who's a survivor and will make it back to the ocean. It's just going to take a lot of dead baby penguins to get there. Until then, all I can do is keep writing cover letters, sending out resumes, interviewing and...waiting. At least I'm not having to wait in Antarctica for two months while sitting on a rock starving and freezing to death, right?  See college seniors, we don't have it so bad. Go find yourself a baby penguin.

I WANT ONE (literally and metaphorically)