Sign Received, I'm Listening
I have been a server at the same fine dining restaurant for over 9 years. I started serving so that I could go back to school, after quitting my job as a Research Assistant in Aerospace Physiology. And I did exactly that. I finished school in two years time (my first two years at the restaurant), earning my second bachelors degree, a Bachelor of Arts in English Literature. I planned on staying at my job until I finished my first book or went onto Graduate School. Then life happened.
Two months after graduation I was married and six months later we started a family. At first I was hesitant to start a family before I finished writing my book. But the truth was, I was struggling with writing it and growing more and more depressed about it. Finally we agreed on my husband's 30th birthday that we would try starting our family. The plan was still for me to write my book and maybe the idea of a family would encourage me to write more, giving me a deadline of finishing it before the baby might arrive. Besides it could take some time to get pregnant, or at least that's what we thought. Who knew that we would be pregnant within the first two weeks of trying? And unfortunately while pregnant I didn't write. I spent all my time dreaming and planning for my new baby.
With a baby on the way, we both agreed that we wanted to be able to stay home with our children, so that we could raise them during their most formidable years, not a child caretaker. So after having our first baby (Captain Awesome), it worked out well to stay at the restaurant, because I was home during the day with the baby and my husband was home with him in the evenings, while I worked a few nights a week.
I knew that I didn't want to have an only child, because I am an only child. Not that there is anything wrong with being an only child. I just wanted my child to have a sibling, a playmate that was just like him. I talked to many of my friends and coworkers that had siblings and observed that siblings that were about two years apart seemed to be the closest friends. So when our son turned one, I wanted to try for another baby.
Four days after Captain Awesome's second birthday, we had baby boy number two (Lieutenant Amazing). Now as a mom of a toddler and a baby, I was definitely not writing. I barely had the time to shower uninterrupted, or sleep uninterrupted, let alone sit down to write uninterrupted. Instead I was busy raising two small children and trying to give them the best of me that I could give, meanwhile still working part time at the restaurant as a server.
It wasn't until last year when Captain Awesome started going to preschool full time and Lieutenant Amazing was going to preschool part time, that I really picked up writing consistently again. It was getting easier to find time to write, the older my babies were getting. It was also about this time that for the first time I felt unhappy at work. Granted the company had gone through some major changes, having been sold to an entirely different company and a change in management, but that wasn't the only reason I was unhappy.
I knew that I wasn't challenging myself for work, I was merely going through the motions. Here I was a highly educated woman with two Bachelors Degrees and I was serving people. I was finally beginning to feel like, I deserved to be served. I should be dining, not working. I knew deep down inside that it was time for me to get out of there. But I had told myself when I finished school, that I was not leaving this job for anything other than writing. So my only way out was to write, which for me is a very slow process. There are periods I go through, where I don't write at all.
Then one night last month, at the end of my shift, I was in the office doing my paperwork with a coworker and my manager. I was listening as they were talking about their big dreams to leave the restaurant and how long they had until they were able to leave. My coworker has plans to go to medical school, while my manager has plans to open her own restaurant. I listened as they talked about specific dates of when they would be leaving.
That's when I began to feel this pit in my stomach and tightness in my throat. I feared that they were going to move on and follow their dreams, while I stayed behind becoming a lifetime server at the restaurant. It was about that time, that I finished filling out my paperwork. When I lifted it off the desk, to give it to my manager, so she could pay me out. I could not believe what was lying on the black desk. Clear as day, there it was, a little white rectangle with black type that read, "write".
In my excitement I stood up from the office chair, pointed and yelled, "Oh my God. Look!" Both my manager and coworker immediately stopped talking and looked at where my finger was pointing.
My manager said, "Oh my God, that just gave me chills. Do you think that's a sign from God? We were just talking about you needing to write earlier tonight. I know one thing, you'd better be writing."
While my coworker just said, "No way...that's crazy."
At this point I was shaking. I didn't know who the sign came from, but I knew it was definitely a sign for me. As I wrote in my last post, I've been experiencing a series of signs over the last year. This just happens to be the last one I received.
Now I knew physically where the little magnet came from. It belonged on the whiteboard above where I was sitting, where there were many other magnetic words. It had obviously fallen down onto the desk, but how crazy that it would be facing me so I could read it at the exact moment I was doubting myself? And how did I not see it before I sat down and set my paperwork on top of it?
I can't explain it. I'm not going to try. I have accepted that someone, maybe God, maybe one of my deceased loved ones, or maybe a guardian angel is guiding me. All I can do now, is be aware and listen to what my guides are trying to tell me.
Two months after graduation I was married and six months later we started a family. At first I was hesitant to start a family before I finished writing my book. But the truth was, I was struggling with writing it and growing more and more depressed about it. Finally we agreed on my husband's 30th birthday that we would try starting our family. The plan was still for me to write my book and maybe the idea of a family would encourage me to write more, giving me a deadline of finishing it before the baby might arrive. Besides it could take some time to get pregnant, or at least that's what we thought. Who knew that we would be pregnant within the first two weeks of trying? And unfortunately while pregnant I didn't write. I spent all my time dreaming and planning for my new baby.
With a baby on the way, we both agreed that we wanted to be able to stay home with our children, so that we could raise them during their most formidable years, not a child caretaker. So after having our first baby (Captain Awesome), it worked out well to stay at the restaurant, because I was home during the day with the baby and my husband was home with him in the evenings, while I worked a few nights a week.
I knew that I didn't want to have an only child, because I am an only child. Not that there is anything wrong with being an only child. I just wanted my child to have a sibling, a playmate that was just like him. I talked to many of my friends and coworkers that had siblings and observed that siblings that were about two years apart seemed to be the closest friends. So when our son turned one, I wanted to try for another baby.
Four days after Captain Awesome's second birthday, we had baby boy number two (Lieutenant Amazing). Now as a mom of a toddler and a baby, I was definitely not writing. I barely had the time to shower uninterrupted, or sleep uninterrupted, let alone sit down to write uninterrupted. Instead I was busy raising two small children and trying to give them the best of me that I could give, meanwhile still working part time at the restaurant as a server.
It wasn't until last year when Captain Awesome started going to preschool full time and Lieutenant Amazing was going to preschool part time, that I really picked up writing consistently again. It was getting easier to find time to write, the older my babies were getting. It was also about this time that for the first time I felt unhappy at work. Granted the company had gone through some major changes, having been sold to an entirely different company and a change in management, but that wasn't the only reason I was unhappy.
I knew that I wasn't challenging myself for work, I was merely going through the motions. Here I was a highly educated woman with two Bachelors Degrees and I was serving people. I was finally beginning to feel like, I deserved to be served. I should be dining, not working. I knew deep down inside that it was time for me to get out of there. But I had told myself when I finished school, that I was not leaving this job for anything other than writing. So my only way out was to write, which for me is a very slow process. There are periods I go through, where I don't write at all.
Then one night last month, at the end of my shift, I was in the office doing my paperwork with a coworker and my manager. I was listening as they were talking about their big dreams to leave the restaurant and how long they had until they were able to leave. My coworker has plans to go to medical school, while my manager has plans to open her own restaurant. I listened as they talked about specific dates of when they would be leaving.
That's when I began to feel this pit in my stomach and tightness in my throat. I feared that they were going to move on and follow their dreams, while I stayed behind becoming a lifetime server at the restaurant. It was about that time, that I finished filling out my paperwork. When I lifted it off the desk, to give it to my manager, so she could pay me out. I could not believe what was lying on the black desk. Clear as day, there it was, a little white rectangle with black type that read, "write".
In my excitement I stood up from the office chair, pointed and yelled, "Oh my God. Look!" Both my manager and coworker immediately stopped talking and looked at where my finger was pointing.
My manager said, "Oh my God, that just gave me chills. Do you think that's a sign from God? We were just talking about you needing to write earlier tonight. I know one thing, you'd better be writing."
While my coworker just said, "No way...that's crazy."
At this point I was shaking. I didn't know who the sign came from, but I knew it was definitely a sign for me. As I wrote in my last post, I've been experiencing a series of signs over the last year. This just happens to be the last one I received.
Now I knew physically where the little magnet came from. It belonged on the whiteboard above where I was sitting, where there were many other magnetic words. It had obviously fallen down onto the desk, but how crazy that it would be facing me so I could read it at the exact moment I was doubting myself? And how did I not see it before I sat down and set my paperwork on top of it?
I can't explain it. I'm not going to try. I have accepted that someone, maybe God, maybe one of my deceased loved ones, or maybe a guardian angel is guiding me. All I can do now, is be aware and listen to what my guides are trying to tell me.
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