Sudden Departure

"So you're back from Mexico."

"Yep, I'm back back."

"Weren't you going to be there a long time?"

[pause]

"I had hoped to but..."

"But God said no."

-------------------------------

It was very sad to leave Mexico but it wasn't necessarily a difficult decision. Multiple trials hitting at the same time made it such that continuing to live in San Miguel de Allende simply was not an option. All I could do was pack my bags and count down the minutes until I could make my way back to Seattle.

The few weeks leading to my departure I was weeping, sobbing, each day. I hadn't considered leaving Mexico even an option, but once I received permission from God to go, I cried out of relief and the rest happened very quickly.

I really thought that being in Mexico was my calling from God... but learned somewhat painfully that God had something else in mind for me. "It is time to live into your calling," He said, and with a broken but willing heart I've returned to Seattle to do just that.

Following God isn't necessarily glamorous. It includes failures and disappointments. I watched things I'd hoped for crumble to pieces and all I could do was cry. Sometimes the correction of God can be really painful.

I have good days and bad days. I still cry and wonder where God will take me, or if he's taking me anywhere at all. I get tears in my eyes when people ask me if I'm working or what I'm doing to get a job. I just don't have an answer for them.

One thing I know for sure: God is doing a complete work in me. "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:4-5). And for that I can be thankful.

I'll continue to share my reflections every once and awhile on my regular blog: http://aprilmidoriyee.blogspot.com. Thank you for following me on this journey.

Goodbye, Cold!

I finally think it's safe to say that the worst of winter is over!!! Phew, what a huge relief. At the beginning of the month I wore five layers of clothes to bed with four blankets and a heater trained right on me. Nowadays it's one layer, one blanket and no heater. Gosh it makes me so grateful. I won't take warm weather for granted again!

Plant sales at the park to celebrate la candelaria. Spring is coming!

Warm weather means the mosquitoes are back, but no matter. The key is to cover all your extremities (pants and long sleeves all the way)...then you only get bites on your hands. Yah, I'm basically becoming a survival expert when it comes to slight life inconveniences.

It's been actually really helpful to try and cultivate my friendships outside of the volunteers. I've been spending more time with people from church and trying to attend more evening meetings on weeknights, and reaching out to friends and family back home in the United States and making a plans with Becca, who is wrapping up her time as Volunteer Coordinator with the girls' orphanage. A month or two may seem like a long time for volunteers to be here, but really, it goes by really quickly and then they're gone! So I feel much more stable choosing to spend more time with people that aren't going to up and leave before I know it. ;-)

It's also been interesting to witness the comings and goings of the kids at the daycare. The program is quite structured here, in that the mom's need to complete their hour of service to the daycare, pick-up and drop-off their children on time, label their kids' clothes with their names, make sure their nails are cut, etc. So in the time we've been here we've lost a couple of handfuls of children because their mothers couldn't/didn't want to keep up with all of the rules. Or others have been suspended for a month because they still haven't become potty training despite months of trying to teach them. Of course, it's sad when your favorites suddenly disappear, but that's life, I guess! I hope Aldo comes back soon... I miss him.

Anyway, I'm just so relieved that the cold snap is over. It's kind of a metaphorical reminder that whatever difficult times may come, they won't last forever. It's a season, and spring will come soon enough.

In terms of prayer requests, I've been struggling with a knee injury since November that keeps hanging on. I went to see the doctor yesterday and am using a knee brace and limiting my walking as much as possible. Please pray for full healing! It's kind of necessary to walk everywhere in this town and it would be super inconvenient to have chronic knee pain here of all places.

Solitude

I've been reflecting on the need for 'alone-time' and the virtues of choosing to enjoy solitude rather than avoid it. Early on in my job, I noticed that I was spending way more social time with the volunteers than I'm used to, going to the gym, eating meals together, spending evenings hanging out in the living room. I wondered to myself for how long I could keep this up, since I thought I was a pretty hardcore introvert, so at a certain point I expected to 'over-extrovert' myself and need to withdraw.

My first four months on the job were very special because there were volunteers around that were nice and low-energy (just like me), thoughtful, intelligent... just super compatible, so it was very easy to get along with them. This month there hasn't been an instant best friend just yet, so I've had the opportunity to get back to enjoying solitary pursuits (reading, journaling, dabbling in creative writing, doing sudoku, reading some more).

And solitude is a peculiar thing, because there are times when I start writing and I look up an hour and a half later wondering where the time went. Then other times it's like I'm just trying to figure out a creative way to fill the hours until going to work the next day. That's when loneliness crops up.

This month I've chosen to be more guarded and made much less of an effort to get to know the volunteers in the interest in self-protection, since it's harder to say goodbye to volunteers if they've basically become the brother/sister I've never had, than if I maintain a respectable emotional distance. But the consequence of that is not always having someone in the house to just hang out with whenever I'm craving the ease of companionship.

So loneliness, that ugly thing. Ugh. It makes me think upon Henri Nouwen, and his writings about confronting his own emotional neediness. I know it's natural to have moments of feeling lonely and isolated, but it makes me wonder about how best to address them when they occur, rather than deny or ignore. It is not as if my goal would ever be to 'never need anyone.' That's ridiculous and also impossible. But I'm toying with the idea that in lonely moments, it might behoove me to use them as opportunities to spend some extra time in God's company in prayer and devotion, rather than trying to distract myself from the negative feelings by covering them over with the happy endings of books, movies and television shows.

One of the moms at the daycare chatted with me this morning while making copies in the office for one of the teachers, and I mentioned that I was going back to Seattle in May to be in a bridesmaid in a friend's wedding. She smiled and asked, "And you, are you married?" To which I immediately replied, "No!! I'm single. I'm single," laughing. "That's best. That's best," she replied, also laughing. As she walked out of the office I added, "[I'll get married] When God wants, but for now, I'm very satisfied to be single." :)

I think the gift of this season of my life is that I just have so much free time to pursue learning and self-discovery. Although I'm not enrolled in a formal educational system anymore, I just crave knowledge. "I love learning things!" I exclaimed to Adi one day and he just chuckled. You know, being on my own is kind of great, and though I may have periods of acute loneliness, the loneliness always seem to dissipate, giving way to another new and exciting experience meeting new people, going to new places, learning new things.

So I'm going to do my best to enjoy the time, to enjoy this time specifically in my life, with its solitude, and all the blessings that come with it.

Needing Prayers

You know the saying, 'Time flies when you're having fun?' Well, time is slow as molasses when you're not. Gosh, I've only been back in Mexico for two weeks but it feels like an eternity. I'm learning so much about prayer, and the importance of continuing to pray for what I want even if I don't see God's response immediately.

My heart is definitely still in Seattle, though I'm figuring out how to cope better with being so far away as my family continues to deal with the many crises. It is agony to sit by and watch the people I love suffer, so I all I can do is pray, send notes of encouragement, and pray some more. When it seems like everything is falling apart, I feel as if it's God and God alone who knows how it will ever be knit back together again.

I am so thankful for the support of friends and family during this time. I have called upon members of my American and Mexican church to be interceding on my grandparents' behalf, and they have been faithful to respond. On Friday I went to the church prayer meeting and ten women lifted my family up in prayer...it meant so much to me; I had tears in my eyes. I've been Skyping with people back in the States, too, to talk and pray, and that has also helped immensely.

It's so uncomfortable to be inept and helpless while members of my family are in acute pain, drained, stressed, at the end of their rope. I can't fix the situation or heal the illnesses. I'm not necessarily angry at God that this is happening... but it's so tragic to feel like someone dear to you is slipping away from you, and you can't do anything. And so I surrender to God's will and his plan.

Those of you not privy to what's actually going on may find these ramblings to be far too abstract and non-specific, but I don't want to be publicly sharing a family matter for all of the world to see. But if you believe in God, please send a prayer up to him on my family's behalf if you can. We need your prayers.

Half-Present

It's been a bit of an uncomfortable week back so far, but I am hoping that little by little things will start to feel better. Due to some family circumstances back home in Seattle, it's been tough to be fully present to the work here in Mexico, because I'm wishing that I could be back home to support my loved ones in this difficult time. I'll be back in May, which I am sure will come before I know it, but for now it's just rough. I'm thankful for the technologies of email and Skype, though. At least I have that!

It's also felt a bit odd coming back to the Volunteer House and start anew with a bunch of new volunteers. It can feel like a roller coaster getting really close to volunteers for a couple of months, and then they leave, and I have to find new friends. So I'm starting to re-think my boundaries and consider trying to cultivate and focus more on friendships with locals in the area that will be around for awhile, just so that I am not going through a continual cycle of intimacy followed by bereavement and then loneliness repeating again and again.

I am coming to the realization that as wonderful and as much of a blessing it is to be here in San Miguel de Allende meeting all sorts of people from around the world, it's still a sacrifice to be here. Especially now that I am far away from family and wish to be with them, I feel it.

It's definitely an interesting season to be in right now... I've got a bit of a case of the 'slogging-throughs.' I'm sure it'll be okay soon. Until then, I'm doing my level best to put one foot in front of the other.

For the Long Haul

This morning I left the house at 7:00am with two of the volunteers to go hiking in the mountains a few kilometers away from San Miguel de Allende with Miguel, our Director at the daycare. I knew nothing about the route we were going to take, other than Donna's warning that when Miguel says six hours, it may turn out to be 10. I did my best to prepare mentally.

And yet, an hour into the hike, as we were climbing straight up on a straight incline, battling through thorny bushes and avoiding animal droppings, scooting belly-down under barbed-wire fencing, I was ready to give up. I was at the back of the group, several yards behind, sweating profusely and breathing hard... "One hour more..." Miguel promised, then added the caveat, "Well, one Mexican hour." There was so much undergrowth that I for the life of me could not see where I was stepping...and then, the straw that broke the camel's back, the cherry on top of this misery sundae: I literally tripped and fell on my knees with a thud. Miguel's son turned around to make sure I was okay, then politely continued on, but I was fuming! I was regretting coming and complaining to myself, totally focused on the hardship of climbing this damned mountain! I could feel my morale collapsing on itself like a dying star.

I've been especially noting lately how easily I get discouraged when things become difficult. It doesn't take much at all for me to say, "Well, I'm out of here!" when things don't come to me naturally, easily and effortlessly. Or, if something does require a lot of effort, and involves failure, I need lots and lots and I mean lots of affirmation and encouragement to keep going. Case in point: going to the gym.

People who know me well know that I'm not one to push myself very hard. To me, just stepping foot in the gym is already a victory in and of itself. A month and a half ago, though, I made a resolution to dedicate six days a week to a weight-lifting program, with the goal of keeping it up until 20 December 2013. I thought it was reasonable enough; I enjoyed the routine, the structure and being able to see steady progress from week to week.

And yet, six weeks in, I was absolutely dragging @$$ getting to the gym, and even dreading it! Why? Because as from week to week I was getting stronger, I was increasing the difficulty by adding weight... So it was getting harder and harder, and I was tired of pushing myself so very hard! I arrived at a critical crossroads--give it up or keep going? As with today's hike, I decided to keep going, though nearly everything within me was screaming to just forget it already, and move onto something requiring less effort, less discipline, less perseverance.

I've been thinking lately about what it means to be in something 'for the long haul.' What does it mean to make a commitment, and to hold true to that commitment even when sometimes all the pleasure is gone from it, or the 'benefit' of that commitment can't presently been seen, or if I just don't 'feel' like staying true to it?

I am sharing all of these anecdotes because they are somewhat analogous to my commitment to God, my faith. For awhile now, my spiritual life has felt somewhat hollow and artificial--perfunctory almost. Somehow, nurturing my inner life through prayer, reading the Bible, reflection and meditation, fell out of my daily routine and habits. I had forgotten its value, and after awhile of neglecting it, began to consider it a tiresome duty, something I didn't really want to do, but knew that I should, like flossing my gums. My motivation to maintain my spiritual life was practically zero. I could see that it was slipping away from me, but it was like I was an outsider, looking indifferently on as I became more and more estranged from God.

How, at the age of 23, had I already 'burned out' spiritually? How had something that was arguably the most important thing in my life dropped down to the bottom of my list of priorities?

So again I return to the theme of my giving up easily when the going gets rough, and of hating to push myself. In the past 23 years, interacting God has been, frankly, intense. It has required me to re-examine how I understand the world, and myself... It has meant facing the 'demons' of self-doubt, fear of suffering, perfectionism... I've made decisions and life-choices in order to stay faithful to God and his holiness... Well, sometimes I don't want to always be grappling with huge metaphysical questions, and sometimes I don't want to see a mirror held up to my own soul to see the ways in which I deceive myself just to feel better about myself. Instead of taking a deep, honest look into the way things truly are, I'd much rather escape and live in ignorance. And trust me, there are plenty of convenient distractions in life to avoid facing the dysfunctions and hard realities of life.

But hiding in a cave from truth, I realized, is not satisfying. It's not 'real.' It's not actual living. And through a series of particularly incisive sermons at church, I realized that it was time to stop playing at religion and get back to actually engaging with God mano a mano, like old times.

You know what, though? It takes work, and discipline and perseverance--the very things I spend a lot of energy dodging in almost every area of my life. I'm trying to get back into the habit of praying daily, reading the Bible and actually paying attention to the meaning. To be honest, it's been a bit rough since I'm not accustomed to it anymore. And a lot of the time, as with the gym, I am dreading it and anticipating it to be difficult and demanding before I even crack open a book/journal.

"In arid times, when duty seems difficult and daily responsibilities have no attraction, when all spiritual consolation is denied us and the beautiful light that illumines life is veiled, in these times humble prayer alone can steady us and give us hour by hour and day by day the determination to act 'against our will.'"

-Servant of God Elisabeth Leseur

All this to say, I am coming up against my own immaturity lately. I've known for awhile that being easily discouraged, and constantly seeking comfort over challenge are some tendencies I'm going to need to overcome if I want to grow up for real.

"No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it" (Hebrews 12:11).

But it's training time... And I'm doing everything in my power to dig deep and stay the course.

Could I live without it?

I've been thinking about personal expectations versus reality, and how we run into trouble when they do not match up with each other. God bless the volunteers that come to help out at the daycare, but in the past couple of weeks I've seen a tragic mis-match between expectations and reality, leading to anger and frustration! Volunteers arrive expecting to be the best helpers ever in the classroom (e.g. heroes/saviors), overestimating their skills, and then are disappointed when they feel 'underutilized' because our teachers actually are competent at their jobs? Or they expect everything to be really easy and effortless, when they haven't taken the time to learn Spanish, so they get mad that they can't understand the teachers and kids, or can't express themselves? I dunno, sometimes it just baffles me, but then I have to remember that it's a universal, human thing to have unrealistic expectations.

In moving here to Mexico I think I underestimated the adjustments that I would have to make in living here. I figured that since I was still in North America, basically surrounded by a ton of (retired) Americans, it wouldn't be that much different from being home in the States. And it's been a journey but I'm finally acknowledging that it's a big change, and there are going to be things I'm just going to have to get used to living without, since I'm here instead of there!

I've been thinking about self-deprivation and self-denial a bit...also, delayed gratification. It's been interesting trying to budget here, and I'm doing lots of 'Is it worth it?' calculations every time I go to the store. When I was here three years ago I denied myself a lot of things because I wanted to be frugal. I had a truly terrible diet of cereal for dinner, or maybe scrambled eggs. Granted, I was 20 years old and couldn't cook for sh1t. This time around, I'm allowing myself the luxuries of cooking real meals (chicken teriyaki, spaghetti, curry) with relatively expensive ingredients (mirin, spaghetti sauce, brown rice, sesame oil), but am still trying to be fiscally conservative.

Frugality can get to the point where nearly every decision is rendered an act withholding pleasure (in the form of purchasing nicer things)--and it can almost become a prison or a punishment.

I could attempt to live a 'simple' life in solidarity with my Mexican co-workers, opting for less extravagances as to be more 'authentic' or whatever. But I'm realizing more and more how much class privilege has spoiled me, and how much I have internalized the consumerist values of the United States. I actually do feel unhappy without the 'creature comforts' (and more) that I had back home. Should I feel ashamed about this? I don't know. Should I just suck it up and stop whining like a first-world a-hole? Maybe.

Yesterday I treated myself to four nice things:

1. four pairs of leggings (at 50 pesos each) to keep warm at night (no central heating here),
2. four pairs of long socks (also for the cold), 
3. strawberries (what a treat!) and 
4. pan dulce from the bakery down the street (I usually just try and wait until it's served for breakfast at the daycare). 

The truth is that buying these things for myself notably lifted my mood. So indulging my consumerist shopping withdrawals in 'moderation' has proven quite helpful. I think it will be a constant negotiation from here on our as to whether I can 'live without' something, or if it's worth it to indulge a little, and through that indulgence, enjoy a little bit of happiness, too. 

Two-Month Mark

Guanajuato Take II

This past Saturday was the first weekend of the international music festival in Guanajuato, El Cervantino. I went with two of the volunteers to see Los Hermanos Carrillo, a group playing traditional music from the region of Veracruz, Mexico (sones jarochos). The group leader was very personable, and their encore song was a stylized version of "La Bamba."

In the evening, went to see Amon Tobin, an artist from Rio de Janiero, Brazil, for a free outdoor electronica concert that started at 9:00pm. It was packed out with young people--I would say at least 95% were Mexican. Throughout the concert, it never stopped smelling of cigarette smoke. Since the 'concert' is basically him pressing different buttons, they made it more interesting by projecting animated images and designs onto an array of white cubes that were synchronized with the music. The crowd was more or less subdued at the beginning, but by the end almost everyone was bobbing their head and screaming for a triple encore.

Fundraising

Sometimes life is pleasantly surprising. When I came to work yesterday morning, Donna informed me that a volunteer who came nine years ago had sent a check to our office in the States for $10,000. Miguel was over the moon, letting me know that $10,000 covers all of our operating costs (teachers' salaries, food, office supplies, maintenance, Volunteer House expenses) for two entire months. It's incredible to me that someone who was here so long ago still thinks about his time at the daycare and was so touched by his experience that he donated so generously almost a decade after the fact. Amazing.

The idea of fundraising makes me squirm a bit because I feel uncomfortable asking people for money. However, I take comfort in the fact that actually there are a lot of people out there that are just looking for worthy causes to donate to, but haven't found something yet that's a good fit. Wednesday we had a fundraising event at a nearby bed and breakfast/mask museum, Casa de la Cuesta.

Zelina, Alice, me, Maria and Colleen

Surprisingly enough, around 90% of the attendees had never heard of Casa de los Angeles before, so it was a good opportunity to share about the work that we do. One of our volunteers, Eimear, has a background in sales, and used her skills to talk us up at every opportunity. She shared with one of the attendees that the Casa de los Angeles documentary brought her to tears. She is a keeper.

Despite my discomfort with talking to strangers, I managed to speak with four or five people and share my journey of having been a volunteer three years ago and of returning to work as the Volunteer Coordinator. Most of the attendees were older adult Americans who spend part of their time here in San Miguel de Allende and another part either back in the United States or in another part of Mexico (usually a beach). We'll be having events like these every month through March, so hopefully with each successive month we'll build momentum as participants tell their friends about the amazing time they had talking with young volunteers from around the world, listening to live music and drinking margaritas.

So thankfully, due to the combined earnings of the September Global Giving campaign, the Chicago Marathon, the generous $10,000 check from the former volunteer and the Casa de la Cuesta event, we should be okay at least for the next short while at Casa de los Angeles.

Transitions

It's been interesting getting accustomed to living in the Volunteer House with all of the other volunteers. It feels a bit like college yet with a lot more change, as some volunteers are in and out within a week while others stay for 11 weeks at a time. Today marks a significant transition for me. The only volunteer that has been here since I've started the position of Volunteer Coordinator left early this morning! He's probably the one I've gotten along with and gotten to know best so far, so it'll be strange not having him around. We've been going to the gym six times a week together (he's basically been my personal trainer) and usually in the evenings we watch a movie while doing Sudoku or working on solving a rubik's cube. I even realized that I had been spending so much time with him that I had started to talk like him--inflection and emphasis and all. He's like the brother I never had.

My job is kind of remarkable because I get to spend a lot of quality time with the volunteers by living and working with them. I start to understand the way that they think, where they're coming from, their idiosyncrasies...and then they head on to continue with their lives as I continue mine. In a way, my background in social work has prepared me well for this because in my past internship experiences, despite getting attached to many of my clients, I had to say goodbye to them at one point or the other.

It's all quite cyclical. Andreas left today, then two volunteers from Denmark arrive on Sunday and will be here for two months. So I get to start all over again getting to know new volunteers as they get to know me. At this point I can only be thankful for the time I've had with each of the volunteers I have met so far. They've all definitely been unique and for the most part fascinating in their own way.

Reflections on Culture Shock and Cultural Fluidity

I've been reflecting on what it means to be living in another country and what multiculturalism is really. San Miguel de Allende is unique because there are (relatively) so many Americans here--the second-highest concentration in all of Mexico, Miguel tells me. The notion of 'culture shock' or losing one's bearings because the environment is so culturally different, does not exactly apply to me in my job or place of residence.

I'm grateful to have grown up in the Seattle metropolitan area, because it primed me to just expect diversity basically at all times. So now that I'm here in Mexico with Mexican co-workers and living in a house with Danish, British and Israeli volunteers, it's not so much a cultural 'shock' as it is an extension and continuation of learning to live in an increasingly multicultural environment.

It's been interesting to note that due to my 'uniqueness' as it were (as an Asian American), I'm basically shattering the stereotypical notions that volunteers and Mexicans have of what it means to be American. I am so perplexed sometimes at the ignorance of people that I meet here, like Mexicans that cannot and will not accept that I was born in and lived in America all my life, and insist that I must be from China or Korea, despite my persistent urging that I am not. And when they pull their eyes back into slits, telling me that I have Asian features, I just really don't even know what to say, I'm so appalled. Not that they're doing this maliciously, but nonetheless I am rendered speechless.

Being here is an opportunity to continue to explore and embrace the complexity of personal identity, rather than relying on cultural generalizations to 'understand' others. I feel as if I've already learned volumes just by chatting with the teachers and volunteers about my family, my church, the food that I eat and the holidays I celebrate. I know this is only scratching the surface of meaningful transcultural dialogue, but this is seriously the stuff I live for.

Breaking stereotypes, revising old ways of thinking and growing into more complex, sophisticated ways of understanding the world--it's just so sexy, what can I say? Just one of the many reasons that I'm so thankful for my job.

Te Acostumbras

For the past two weeks there have only been two volunteers in the house, so it's been a nice and chill time. I've been reflecting a lot on what it means to adjust to life here in Mexico. While I would certainly admit that the life I live now is one of relative extravagance, and that I lack nothing that I need, there are small things here and there that, though they be small, are still adjustments nevertheless.

 

Things I've learned (mostly) the hard way:

 

· The freshest and cheapest eggs are available at the pollería on Canal Street, where they keep whole raw chickens out on the counter, ready to butcher. However, they are closed on Sundays.

· It is shameful to be seen in public with unkempt hair, rumpled clothing or in sweats.

· It’s common for men to wear backpacks but for some reason, women don’t. Women also don’t wear shorts or capris if they can help it.

· I can fit exactly three pairs of jeans in my sink to wash them. Laundry day for jeans is every fourth day.

· The public library closes at 7:00pm and the post office closes at 4:30pm on weekdays.

· When it rains really hard, the pilot light on the water heater may go out and need to be re-lit. I learned this after two days of cold showers.

· Before going to the kitchen to prepare dinner, apply bug spray liberally. Mosquitos will bite the arch of your foot if you so give them the opportunity.

· When in a public place, remember that using the bathroom will cost you three or four pesos.

· Commodities that only non-Mexicans would buy are subject to extreme price discrimination, so choose wisely: peanut butter is $8, women’s shaving cream is $9, a bar of dark chocolate is $4, Prego spaghetti sauce is $6, tofu is $5 and shoga is $5.

· Good luck finding cheddar cheese anywhere.

I think to myself at times about my life of luxury and convenience in the United States. It was definitely a nice life. But in terms of the cost/sacrifice of moving to Mexico, they are far outweighed by my current level of life satisfaction. The fact that I am satisfied with the nature of my work (a delicious mix of administrative, multicultural, multigenerational and social tasks), and the balance of my work and leisure time is huge.

I was commenting to my friend via Skype the other day about the difference between my former job in downtown Seattle and my current job with Casa de los Ángeles in San Miguel de Allende. Since graduating from college I have been seeking a job that will (i) grant me opportunities to use my talents and abilities, (ii) supply my basic needs and (iii) contribute to anti-oppression/social justice work in a way that is ethically compatible with my core values and beliefs.

Ladies and gentlemen, I think I may have hit the mother lode here because so far, all three criteria have been met if not surpassed in my past five weeks on the job. What can I say? I am happy here.

Little hassles here and there aside, I’m pretty freaking sure that this is exactly where I am supposed to be. Thank you, Lord!