My Struggles With the Concept of a “Fresh New Year”.
January 9, 2008 — lydiamuell
“2008″. . .I still cringe when I say it. I have been struck with that same state of melancholy that blankets my soul immediately after the Christmas holiday has passed. Partly, that is because I tend to reflect on the collection of the 365 days that just passed me by while trying to figure out how I can improve the next round of 365 days that are ahead of me.
I have always heard that women handle change much better than men. I wish that I were one of those women. If I am going to change, it has to be SO drastic that it spins me off of my axis and into a whole new universe. Drastic change seems to create a mental numbness that puts me into survival mode. As the numbness begins to wear off, I am left wondering if I need to spin off of my axis again to find yet another universe to blindly explore.
The reason that I use this analogy is because I was very recently presented with a job opportunity that would not only provide the benefits that I so desperately need, but also a handsome salary and rather large office. Initially, I thought that this so called “opportunity” couldn’t have arrived at a better time as I have been ramping up for a that proverbial big spin that would launch me right off of my current path and into something shockingly new.

I attended the formal job interview yesterday, dressed in that same stuffy business attire that I so happily pushed to the back of my closet a year and a half ago. The suit that I wore is still in fashion but fit a bit more snug than I remember, which reminded me of yet another thing that I need to change in 2008.
As my would-be boss explained his expectations of my would-be job performance, all I could think about was my journey as a glass artist. It was a layoff from a job much like this one that launched my career as a lampworker. The journey has been like a roller coaster. . .So many ups, downs, loops, and curves. You never really know what might be around the bend. . .All you can do is hold your breath and hope that the track doesn’t fall out from under you as your round the next corner.
I barely remember the moments as I departed the stuffy office building, wearing my snug and stuffy suit. My mind’s mental flash player presented slide shows of the beads that I had made over the past year as I made the drive home. They served as a reminder of what I would be leaving behind if I went back to the cold corporate world that I at one time wanted so badly to get away from.


















