Two Weeks’ Notice

What an absolute whirlwind of a Friday!  Due to a coworker’s birthday that we decorated for starting at 7:30 am and tons of things that went on during the afternoon, the day started early and ended late.  From helium tanks and birthday decorations and ping pong games to serious talks about the future, changes, and new beginnings, I’m realizing how deep my roots are becoming here.

That’s the thing, though.  You start to get settled and realize how quickly things around you change.  Maybe it’s just because I’m a recent grad who’s not fully adjusted to the “real world” yet, but I still can’t quite fathom the whole “two weeks’ notice” thing.  Up until very recently, most of my close friends were ones I went to college with, and if they were my year, we essentially had all of college together if we met as freshmen.  Even if someone were three years older than me and I met her in the spring of my freshman year, I still knew she’d definitely be there until she graduated in May.  It’s strange to be told by someone that she’ll be gone in two weeks, rather than getting at least a semester’s worth of notice.

The working world – and the advertising world in particular, which is incredibly fast-paced and always changing – is quite different.  I’ve been at my job for almost three months, and I’ve already learned a huge amount about the industry, the structure of my agency in particular, and everything that goes into the day-to-day responsibilities of my job.  I’ve seen the agency win new business pitches, which is really exciting.  I met all of our summer interns, got to know a few of them, and then watched as most of them returned to their hometowns or universities for their last year of college as the summer came to an end.  I’ve met new people as they’ve joined the agency, and I’ve learned about a wide variety of businesses as I am assigned additional projects and clients.  At first, there was so much to learn and I remember that it felt like I was drinking from a fire hose, overwhelmed with the amounts of information and data available to me and expected of me to understand.  I’m definitely getting the hang of my job as time passes, yet am acutely aware of how quickly things can and do change.

I think the strangest part of it all is that, up to this point, life was “laid out” in a way.  I had a few years of preschool, and then from kindergarten through fifth grade, I went to elementary school.  Middle school was sixth through eighth grades, and high school was ninth through twelfth.  I had always planned to go to college, so it was a little bit difficult to choose where to go, but once I had made that decision, the plan was to get my degree in four years.  My four years just finished, and this move to a new state to take a job was the first event in a long time that had been very unknown and much more up to me to decide.  At graduation, our class president said something similar in her speech – that after graduating, our life is less planned out for us, and that when we’re “supposed” to stop and start a new job or big stage of life, it won’t be as obvious as an acceptance letter in the mail congratulating us on our next four(ish) years at JMU.

What I’m learning from all this is that change is inevitable.  Appreciate what you have, but don’t be afraid of change, because with change also comes growth and the opening of new doors.

~~~

“The only thing that is constant is change.”

-Heraclitus

The Catchphrase of Third Grade

“Ms. Wagner stole our new girl!”

This is what you could call the catchphrase of third grade – at least for me.  I heard this a lot, spoken by whiny third graders, right after I moved from Richmond, VA to St. Louis, MO in the middle of the school year.  I was originally supposed to be in Ms. Petterson’s third grade class, but she had been out a lot and had a long-term sub, so the principal decided that it would be better to put me in Ms. Wagner’s class so I could get to know my teacher quickly.  However, Ms. Petterson’s class had already been told that they were getting a new student, so when plans changed, a lot of nine-year-olds thought it was unfair since they were apparently looking forward to having the “new girl.”

Third grade is nice that way; even though as we get older, we sometimes look forward to changes and new experiences, kids seem to be more excited about the prospect of making new friends.  Before I moved away from Richmond, I was in Ms. Rosypal’s class, and we were learning to write in cursive.  We had only gotten through some of the letters by the time it hit March and I was about to leave, but because I was moving to St. Louis and because sweet, third grade teachers are accommodating to their students, Ms. Rosypal taught the whole class how to write an uppercase “S” so we could all practice writing “St. Louis” in cursive.  I’m quite certain Ms. Rosypal doesn’t remember doing this, but I do, and it’s definitely the little things that often mean the most.

After moving, I remember being welcomed by everyone in Ms. Wagner’s class, and being well-known by everyone in Ms. Petterson’s class, since I was “stolen” from them.  It was that year that I learned to play four-square on the blacktop at recess, and played the computer game “Oregon Trail” with classmates when we had free time between lessons (not sure if anyone else played the game, but you’d form a group of people and try to virtually build a camp and gather enough food while on the Oregon Trail, and eventually group members would get sick or injured or run out of food.  I don’t think we ever won the game, meaning we all eventually died, and thinking about it now, it wasn’t a very happy game to be playing as a third grader…but we loved it anyway).

Elementary-Aged Me Playing My Violin

I remember bringing in my violin for “show and tell” and correcting my friend a little too pretentiously when he mistook the shoulder rest for the chin rest.  We laughed about that later because we became close friends in middle school, stayed in touch throughout high school and college after I had moved to another city, and even got to see each other in Europe while we were both studying abroad last year.

Despite all of the fun memories, I also remember being miserable when it came to multiplication tables.  While my school in Virginia began in September and went through mid-June, my new elementary school in Missouri had begun in mid-August and went through May.  This meant I was behind in some of the lessons, including multiplication.  I remember doing “times tables” in Missouri and having only a couple minutes to solve a grid of simple multiplication problems, being horrible at it since I hadn’t learned enough about how to multiply quickly, and hating the feeling of being behind.

Was it my fault that I couldn’t keep up?  Not really, and no one was really to blame.  My new teacher helped me out with catching up and I eventually did just fine.  Even then, my nine-year-old self experienced a learning curve, and it took me a little while to get the hang of my new class, my new school, and my new home.  Despite the obstacles, there were so many great aspects about that new part of my life.

When starting out in the “real world” and in a new job, there is most definitely a learning curve, and it includes more than just doing multiplication quickly.  As I settle in to my new job, my new home, and my new life in North Carolina, I have to remind myself that I’ll run into challenges that frustrate me, and that I’ll sometimes feel like I’m the new kid who’s slower at multiplication than everyone else.  If it wasn’t for my move in third grade, though, I would have missed out on a lot of great experiences, like learning new things, getting familiar with a new place, and making new friends.

Just like that move, this one happened for a reason.  Again, I’m learning new things, getting familiar with a new place, and making new friends.  And just like that move, I can confidently say that despite the obstacles, there are so many great aspects about this new part of my life.

~~~

“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.”

-Paulo Coelho