sign up or log in for additional features. (It's free!)
The look of the kid made her eyes roll. Geez. He was scrawny as hell. He was eager. He was just what he had been told to be his whole life.
“Look kid, I like you, or at least I want to like you, but you have to calm the hell down.”
By Bridget Grace on 11.30.2019
Taking the job as an intern felt like walking backwards. I had worked my way up the corporate ladder. I put my time in. Years of proving myself to others and to me. How is it that I am starting all over. A 45 year old intern. I am surrounded by twenty something years olds. I feel more like a mother in the middle of a day care. What they are concerned about are things I already have walked through. Or worse, I do not even understand. Asking would make me feel like an outcast. Words, phrases and actions felt like a different language. Even though they were all speaking English I could not make sense of what they were saying. I wanted more for my life. I had big plans to move myself and daughter out of this town. Now if feels like we will be stuck here forever. I want to scream “not fair”. But to who? Who do I have to share my distress with? I broke up with Tim two month ago. He wanted more than I could give him. With a 15 year old daughter who I have been raising on my own since the day she was born. I was all she had. Tim could not understand the complexity of single parenting. He too had worked his way up the ladder. When he found out I had lost my job he tried to rescue me. He could not see me as an intern as well. I wonder now if it was more of an embarrassment to him than concern. O well, I will never know. We broke up on bad terms. I doubt it we will ever talk again. It is a shame. I do not have many friends, not the kind I could call at wee hours of the night. The kind of friends who would just listen to me without trying to fix me. I am not broken. It is part of life, I am in another transition. I know how to do this. I just never thought in my wildest dreams I would be an intern again. My daughter watches me walk through the motions. This is a time where I can teach her a lesson not with words, no, with my actions. Even though her father has never been involved in her life. He has sent me checks every month for the last 15 years. Enough money to live on, save and give to Darla when the time was right. Work for me was not and has never been about the money. It has been about my passion to be involved in the Ives of people who need care. I have a passion to live from my purpose. This is why stepping back will not kill me. Times have changed since I started in the industry. A knew generation of people coming and going.
By GmaCis on 11.30.2019
a division of Identity Crisis, Inc.