Snow and socks

Two nights ago, there was a fantastic snowstorm that really made a mess of things. It wasn't all bad. I waited for the bus in it, and there were huge huge 'flakes' blowing around in the air and it was very picturesque, watching snow fluff swirl to the ground. The bus ride home took a while, but it would have taken a while driving, too, so I guess I can't really complain. (Well, I can. But why bother?) 

Anyway, the next morning, I headed out to catch the bus for work, and got to enjoy the end result. It was a very WET snow, and therefore very heavy, and there were a few fallen tree branches. It was also very wet and for some odd reason, everyone decided that clearing the walks was a silly idea. As I was walking towards the bus stop, I saw the bus drive right on down the road. Hurrah. 

The good news was that I had time to walk to the stop where I meet my connecting bus. The bad news was that--oh yeah, remember those uncleared walks? I got to traipse through all that snow. Or walk in the road, which seemed a less intelligent course of action. 

So I traipsed. And tried to keep my feet dry. Until I realized it wasn't going to happen. And then I just embraced the walk. Well, embraced. I don't know. I mean it was as much of an embrace as can be given to snow and wet feet. But I have learned that there comes a point when you just have to stop worrying about things like wet feet (or babies getting food on your shirt, or noise, or whatever), because some things are inevitable and worrying about them is just a waste of time. 

Well, no surprise, my feet were soaked when I got to work. I got some paper towels and tried to squeeze off the excess water in my socks, and I stuffed paper towels in my shoes. And spent the rest of the day running around in my socks. At work. Yes indeed. And I felt just a little bit wild and rebellious. 

Truthfully? I kind of enjoyed it. Here's to snow and socks. 

Resumés

I have been looking for a job, which means writing a resumé and lots of cover letters, and all the things you do when applying for jobs. Which means I've given a lot of thought to my professional accomplishments, because I'm trying to highlight them and show that I do have them (which can be tricky when you are looking for your first post-graduate job, if you know what I mean).

Looking for a job gives you a lot of time to think (and honestly, sometimes that's all there is for you to do. Job searching involves a lot of waiting). It is very easy to feel like you aren't really doing much in life when you don't have a job. But I have had many moments--many, many moments--over the last few months to realize that there is a different kind of resumé in life, and one that matters more than what I've achieved professionally.

When I think of the most important things I have done in my life, the things that mean the most, and have the most impact, and do the most to make the world better than it was, none of them are anything to do with archiving papers, or getting an order out on time, or stocking the shelves, or even helping a student understand what a word means. The most important things I have done in my life are things that would never go on a resumé for a job, or even be asked about in an interview. But they matter so much more.

They are things like taking a walk with my nephew, and playing with him, and teaching him things. Because all of that, hopefully, sends him the message that he is loved, that he is valued, and that he has worth. It is baking a cake for a friend who is feeling down, and just needs to know that she's not alone. It is laughing with my nieces at the ridiculous things that stars wear on the red carpet, or reading stories to my other niece, or telling my nephew what a great kid he is. The most important things I have done in my life have been telling people I know there is a God, and that He loves us, and in loving them myself.

I feel really good when I complete a project at work, because I know I've worked hard and done good work. And it feels good to finish things. And it is satisfying and rewarding, and it has value for me as a person. But the experiences that matter the most, that are critical, the accomplishments that I know really count, are the ones that I have by interacting with and loving and helping people. I sometimes feel like I shouldn't be spending time playing with my nephew, I should be working on job applications and finding new leads. But when I take the time for people, I am always blessed to KNOW that that was the choice that mattered most on my life resumé. It is those decisions that bring me the most joy, and those are the things that will be on my application to heaven, if you will.

I may never be rich. I will probably never be a famous anything (which is okay. I hate the limelight). No one is ever going to name me to the Archivist Hall of Fame. I hope to publish some of the stories I've written, but I doubt I will ever be famous for them. I'm no Tolkien or Rowling or Dickens. And I don't really want to be. But I do hope that I do some good for someone once in a while, and make the world a little better for having been here.

Cosmic Math

I always liked math in school, at least until my first college math course, which was Calculus 2. Calculus 2 was all about theory, "let's prove the formulas that we use", and series and sequences and beyond me. I like the kind of math that says, "Here's the problem, here's the formula, the rules you have to apply, now, get an answer." Plug in the numbers, step a, step b, step c. That's my kind of math.

Cosmic math is much more like Calculus 2--theoretical, no rules, nothing reliable. Cosmic math doesn't follow a pattern. In cosmic math, 2+2 can equal 45. Which is just one of the reasons why life is what it is.
I think Cosmic always works out perfectly in the end, but it's hard to say, because it can be hard to follow how it all works out, so I can't necessarily say cause and effect. But, I have a lot of faith in cosmic math.

An example of Cosmic math: My car needed a lot of work. It worried me a lot, because I couldn't afford the work, or a new(er) car, or anything. Well, on the way home from an interview, I slid on the road and totaled my car. Which, as horrible as that was, solved the whole, "what to do with my car" problem. And, even better, my car was actually covered for collision, so the insurance settled. So, not only did it solve my dead car problem, but it gave me some funds. Which are also needed, and which can help take care of a new car, if I need them too. So, this terrible terrible thing ended up solving a lot of problems and really being for the best. THAT is cosmic math. Because, no one in their right mind would ever say, "I bet the solution to my problems is to total my car." (No one should EVER say that. Ever).

Now, I am hoping that cosmic math will finally, finally make the agony of the last year result in the most amazing and unforeseen 2+2=45 ever.