DAY 3.  REMEMBER WAITING?

 

Write a few paragraphs about a time in your life when you were waiting.

 

Examples

When I was close to finishing my college courses and graduating, and especially during my student teaching, I looked forward to my life as a teacher. I fully expected to find a job and begin working in a high school that coming September. After all, I had a 3.75 GPA and had exceptionally positive recommendations from my professors and from my cooperating teacher. I would be a shoo-in. So I prepared my resume and sent out applications to a number of districts, some near my home and some in the far corners of New Jersey. In those days before internet and e-mail, getting a response took at least a week and usually longer for job searches. So I didn’t panic when I didn’t hear from any of the school districts for two or three weeks. I chalked it up to it being a busy time for them as their school year came to an end. And I waited. And waited. And waited.

 

Finally, at the beginning of August, I received a call for an interview. One. The district was about three hours away by car, but I jumped at the chance.

 

I updated my portfolio with sample lessons and projects, bought a new outfit that said “professional,” and drove north to Wanaque, New Jersey. The interview went well, or at least I thought so. Granted, it was my first one for a teaching position, and I may have been too easy to please. I returned home expecting to be called in a few days by the superintendent and offered the job. It didn’t happen. In fact, they didn’t call at all, and only when I followed-up after two weeks to ask did I find out that I was not the chosen one.

 

So began my journey of waiting to get a teaching position. I call it a journey because it took me to places, experiences, and people who shaped my life maybe more so than teaching could.

___________________________________________________________________________

​

I spent eight years waiting to meet a man I could love. And two more years waiting to go on a date with him.

 

The eight years were those when I thought I had missed my chance for marriage and had settled into the single life. After two awkward, uncomfortable, unhappy relationships, I learned to embrace the freedom of not being in a relationship, and I enjoyed the freedom most of the time. Still, seeing friends marry affected me, ate at me, sometimes. I guess I convinced myself that I could have a good time and do things whether I would meet Mr. Right or not.

 

The two years of waiting to go on a date were a result of each of us either being involved with someone else or wanting not to intrude in the other’s life.

 

Finally, circumstances fell in place and we had our first and second dates. And maybe a third or fourth before we both knew where it all was leading.