I think I checked my phone ten times in one hour. I wanted to know how Tyler’s interview went. I wanted so bad for him to call with news that it went well, but part of me was scared about it. What if they liked him? What if they offered him the job? The implications were great. We’d have to change everything. I was really happy with my job, happy with our life. Did I want life to change?
On the other hand, how many times in life do you get the chance to live in another country and tour around Europe for two years? The experience would be great for the boys, and for me and Tyler in a lot of ways. I could use the time to write, to be a mom and volunteer in the boy’s classrooms, volunteer in Tyler’s classroom. That sounded sort of nice.
My phone rang. Tyler was done with his interview.
“How’d it go?”
“Um, it was okay. I don’t think I got it.”
My heart sank a little. “Why not?”
“The principal kept saying that he liked me, I have the right experience. But then he’d say, ‘I just wish I’d come here before I went to Chicago.’ I think the jobs are gone.”
“I could see why you’d think that. But what if it means that they were disappointed in the other candidates, like they wasted their time, and this is a good thing.” Is it a good thing? Ugh, another roll in the stomach.
“Maybe. I’ll be home soon.”
I sat at our kitchen island, the reality of what we were doing starting to sink in. Either way, I decided, I would be happy. Whether we went on a great big adventure, or whether we stayed. That didn’t make the next week go by any faster, though. I had the craziest dreams, and I found it incredibly hard not to say anything to my friends and coworkers. Our future hung in the air, just out of my reach, and my mouth was locked shut.
Then, the following Wednesday, just short of a full week after the interview, Tyler called me again. “I didn’t get it,” he told me. “They said maybe next year, but they don’t have any more positions open. right now.” He sounded more disappointed than I’d thought he would be. To be honest, I was more disappointed than I thought I would be as well. I told myself that I wasn’t getting my hopes up, but that’s exactly what I’d done. In my mind, life was changing already. How long would it take to undo that change? to get back to “normal”? If I had it to do over again, I would have told more people about the interview so I’d have more people to talk to when it didn’t happen.
But life went on. I worked to keep myself from being disheartened. Maybe I could just make more time for all those things I wanted, more time to travel, to be with my family and to work on my writing. It’s okay, I thought, it’ll all be just fine.