It happened the other night, just as I got home from the shop - a phone call I was expecting, but not until after the new year. I’m excited and nervous at the prospect, but it would appear that I have a new job. There are formalities to square away, and an apartment to find in the interim, and I don’t want to say too much until I sign the offer and begin packing, however it would seem as good as done.
Leaving International will be bittersweet; the place is frustrating at times, but mostly I’ve enjoyed my time back there. Still, I’ve got to look at this move for all its opportunity for growth that just doesn’t exist in the retail environment for me - or at least, that I can’t seem to locate - and for the chance of a much needed change of place. I will still live in Greater Boston, but I will be traveling extensively throughout North America as part of the job, as well as perhaps through European in the not-too-distant future. J’aime Paris.
So, here we are on New Year’s Eve, and I can’t help but feeling a little bit superstitious about the whole thing. Taking into account the fact that I’ve been hunting and interviewing for positions with various companies since last Spring, and only now, with mere hours until the calendar turns, do I receive an offer on a job I actually want to accept. Weird.