Handwritten Journal
Nine years ago, I was six months into my first “big boy” job. I was learning so much. I was earning more than a living. And I was blessed to share a workspace with some of the most fun and entertaining people I’d ever met in that career field. I loved what I did.
As that fated first year came to its end, I received feedback that deepened my appreciation for my company and crew: my performance review. At the risk of sounding arrogant beyond measure, it was stellar. I shied away at all of the praise. True, I had received such praise at other jobs in the past. However, I had never received it at this level of career amidst months of doubt and inadequacy.
I was so happy to be able to contribute something meaningful to a meaningful cause. It was the perfect way to end the year and kick off my journey home. That… and one cute employee at Target I insisted on visiting over and over again.
I didn’t think life could get any better. Little did I know what awaited me at home: reality. Also imminent: a new hobby and curiosity that would forever change the course of my life.
