Saturday, December 7, 2019

Is My Parachute Open?

When I prepared to graduate from Iowa State University, my mother was concerned I wasn't ready for the real world. She got me a copy of the world's most popular job-hunting book, "What Color is Your Parachute" to help me along. Hint, hint kid - JOB - get one! 

I'd enjoyed the heck out of my college years, and had applied for jobs during the spring of my senior year.  Come May, graduation was looming and no offers had come through. My parents and I were starting to panic. Visions of living in the basement at 202 Crombie in Atlantic, Iowa. Gulp!

Fear not, dear readers. In the last month of school, not one but two offers came through. Sighs of relief from all parties. I wasn't able to use that book, grabbing up the offer that made the most sense and $. I was the Office Manager at Gamble Robinson, a grocery wholesaler in Sioux Falls, S.D., making a whopping $12,500.

The "Parachute" book description states it is "a self-inventory that helps the reader design a career, and life around key passions, transferable skills, traits and more." Due to necessity - following Paul's career, and parenthood, I didn't take time to do that self-inventory until I was in my late 30's. I kept my eyes peeled for opportunities - while not quite sure what my passion was. I'm ever thankful for that Creston News Advertiser Employment section ad - looking for a Recycling Education Coordinator. Bing! It was 1997. My parachute was finally open! I feel so fortunate to have had the opportunity to work in the waste reduction and recycling career field in Iowa for the past 22 years.
Metro Waste Authority's new 7 Acre wetland at their landfill - I love this stuff! 

As retirement from the Department of Natural Resources looms (last day Jan. 2 but mostly vacation after December 20), I must admit I'm anxious. I've been a worker/employee for 40 years. Who will I be once I retire? Is my parachute open?

When our son Jud was a little guy, he didn't do transitions well. He'd go play at a friend's and when it was time to go home - yikes, a tantrum! I would drag him kicking and screaming out the door, yelling "thanks" to the host.

I'm not big on goodbyes and transitions either. No worries about a tantrum though.  If I had my way, I'd prefer to slink out like normal on that last day...tears in my eyes, no doubt. Then Paul and I will see what's next. Together.