Here’s what the last couple of weeks have looked like: I’d accepted one job offer, put in my two weeks’ notice, went through three rounds of interviews in 48 hours for another position (that was cleared by HR on the day that I put in my two weeks’), accepted a great side freelance gig, found out my roommate is moving to California, accepted the second job offer, had to call and decline the first job offer, fill out mountains of paperwork, prepare for the transition at my current job, and then celebrate my last day in the office with a trip to Top of the Rock. Throw in a million yoga classes and social events and coffee dates, and it’s been a little chaotic, to say the least.
It’s basically been a two-week living example of “when it rains, it pours.” And it’s been scary.
I’ve gotten comfortable with my life here: I’ve worked for ONA for the past two years, and it’s largely defined my identity and experience in New York City. I’ve loved my job in many, many ways: coffee dates with talented photographers (many of whom I can now call friends), the flexibility to work remotely, more gorgeous camera bags than I know what to do with. Almost as soon as I put in my notice, I was plagued by doubts about whether I’d made the right choice: it’s the first time I’ve left a job for a reason other than moving to another country. And yet, there’s something exhilarating about the unknown: I’ve taken plenty of personal and professional risks in the past, and they’ve always seemed to work out even better than I imagined.
I’ve known Aly since we were roommates in California, and we’ve lived together in our delightful little apartment in Brooklyn for the past year: it’s hard to imagine my social life, let alone my apartment, without her. My home is my escape from the chaos from the city: it’s clean and orderly and quiet, and it’s scary to open that private space up to a stranger. I’ve had good roommates and bad roommates before, and I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that this will be another one of those situations where it works out even better than I could hope. [Side note: I’m still totally looking to fill the room if anyone is searching in NYC! We have a dishwasher, an in-unit washer/dryer, outdoor space and I buy fresh flowers every week, HOLLA.]
It’s been a lot of change, all at once. Right at the apex of it all, when it was a just a swirl of unknowns, I decided that my mantra would be I can handle this situation with grace. It was a reminder to be both honest and kind, to be upfront yet tasteful. It was about remembering others and how my choices affected them even as I accepted that my own happiness and success had to be a top priority.
Whenever I call my mom to complain about all of the crazy things happening in my life (as I did last week), she always says the same thing: “when it rains, it pours.” it’s funny how many different ways we think of rain. In a drought, any drop of water is seen as a welcome relief. But too much water can also be a flood, a deluge, a disaster. We can’t control the weather, but we can choose how we plan for it and react to it. We can decide to be depressed by a rainy day, or we can curl up with a good book and a hot chocolate and listen to the pitter-patter of the raindrops.
There has been no doubt that the last few weeks has felt like an absolute downpour: sometimes it’s been refreshing, and other times it’s been overwhelming. And yet, it’s been a good reminder that you can’t predict the future and you get nowhere by worrying: you can only expect the most wonderful things to happen, not in the future but right now.
So, without further ado! I’m excited to announce that I’ll be working in brand partnerships at Vimeo: quite literally, my dream next step. And bonus: I’ll get to spend a week in Sacramento before my start date. Good things are happening, y’all. Thanks, as always, for the support.