I got a job!
I've been unemployed since February 1. My last job was mind-numbing. I was an Administrative Assistant for a manufacturing company. It was only supposed to be a part-time job for a few months but it turned into a full-time job for two years. I was laid off when the company, in an (desperate) attempt to pull themselves out of a rut, did some reorganizing and, in the process, eliminated my position. By the time that happened, I had become depressed, unmotivated, and irritable. I didn't like my job. I felt like Tom Hanks in the beginning of Joe Vs The Volcano.
I have a real sense of compassion for autistic folks. I've always seemed to connect well with them, as well as with those who have Down's Syndrome. While my degree is in music, I have been interested, for a number of years, in a program in Florida that uses my training in ethnomusicology with autistic children. It's not quite Music Therapy, but since my Master's degree is in ethnomusicology, I had been trying to steer myself in that direction for a PhD. Plans have changed, though I have not ruled it out for the future.
One Sunday, a few weeks ago, I heard an announcement that got me really excited. There is an Autism Center in Indiana that opened a branch in my town, located in the basement of my church! The director of this branch is a member of my church. Both of the pastors knew that I was job hunting and that I was interested in autism, and one day the Associate Pastor said that the Autism Center was expanding rapidly and that she had heard they needed to hire people quickly. That Sunday I cornered the branch director outside the nursery as she was picking up her daughters and introduced myself. I filled out an application, attached my resume and four letters of reference, and put it in their little mailbox in the basement. I was called in for an interview and got a tour of the place (the Sensory Room looks like a blast!).
A week went by and I hadn't heard anything, so I sent the branch director an email. She was waiting on Headquarters and said that because of that, a decision hadn't been made yet and she would keep in touch.
Meanwhile, I have been volunteering regularly at the Therapeutic Equestrian Center. The instructor there is also a member of my church. Her day job is working at a Learning Center for cognitively impaired students. She said they are really shorthanded with subs and para-pros. She recommended I apply. So I did.
On Monday, as I was sitting in my bedroom, I got a phone call. I didn't recognize the number but it was a local area code. I answered and heard, "Is this Krysten?" before my phone totally crapped out on me and I couldn't hear anything else. Turns out the woman on the other end could hear me clear as a bell. I was the only one having problems, which is stupid because I usually have excellent reception in my apartment. She tried calling me again two or three more times from different lines, but with the same irritating result. I looked up the phone number on the Internet, but the information was outdated. Nevertheless, it allowed me to deduce from which town the phone call originated. It was the same town as the Learning Center. I was really frustrated at that point.
I wandered out to the bluff and sat on a swinging bench to call my roommate and my mom to verify that it was my phone having the problems. It was. I couldn't hear them either. Mom sent me a text and I responded explaining the terrible timing of my phone woes. She recommended I head on over to the church (which is only a few blocks from my apartment) and try a land line. Good idea, Mom!
I called the Learning Center, asked to be transferred to Human Resources, and...got the answering machine. I left an awkward voicemail. All my voicemails are awkward. I hate leaving messages. I waited a few minutes then called back again. Same thing. I might have called a third time. I don't remember. Immensely frustrated, I got up and stood forlornly in the hallway and paced. Finally, I decided to head home and come back a few hours later to try again. I turned with resolve and walked toward the door to leave, but my path brought me past the phone again. What the heck. I tried one more time...and got through to someone! We scheduled an interview for Thursday morning. I hung up, relieved, and continued my path to leave.
As I headed to the door, I walked past the Associate Pastor's office. She waved me in and asked if I was there to see the director of the Autism Center. I said no. "Really? I thought you two were meeting today. Huh. Guess I don't know what I'm talking about," she said. I shrugged and told her my news about the interview on Thursday. She wished me luck and I left.
Apparently, after I left, she headed down to the basement and found the director of the Autism Center. "Did you know Krysten is interviewing at the Learning Center on Thursday morning?" she asked her. "What?! NO!"
Tuesday morning, I got a phone call from the director of the Autism Center. My phone was still being difficult, but I managed to find a sweet spot, standing at an odd angle over my bed, and heard what I had been hoping to hear from my first choice job, "You're hired!"
This morning I had a TB test and a drug test. On Monday I have to go to Headquarters in Indiana. I get to officially start training on Tuesday.
I have been feeling a little intimidated by the fact that the other employees have degrees in child psychology and development, and the other woman they hired at the same time as me is a practicing speech pathologist. However, I'm trying to get over that and be confident in myself and my skills. They want to add music into their program. There is one little boy at the moment who is nonverbal, but responds really well to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Apparently, when he hears it, he starts vocalizing. Hopefully, I can use music to encourage him and others.
I am super excited. Not only did I get a job, but it's one I am going to LOVE. I get to use my degree. I get to wear jeans and dress comfortably everyday. I get to do something that has meaning. And, I'm going to be paid better than I was at my last job.
Hot diggity dawg.