Our Omer of Manna: Part II

At the most basic level, Jonathan knew he had a choice: he could either maintain business as usual and look for another job in finance, or reevaluate his career altogether.  A business major as an undergraduate, Jonathan had received an MBA in Finance while working for the Department of State Finance in Oklahoma.  Once we were married, I would see him off to work each day, knowing he would spend it sitting in a cubical, behind a computer screen, staring at spreadsheets and crunching numbers.  I distinctly remember thinking, "Lord, this is not what you created him to do."

After a year in Waco, Jonathan's career went from being a ho-hum obligation with some sporadic moments of enjoyment to being a downright drain.  I could see his lack of fulfillment and his frustration with his boss eating away at him.  The biggest red flag came when he began taking runs at lunch each day in the 100+ Texas summer heat, just to get out of the office.

By the time the dust settled from his job loss, it became very clear that losing his job was an opportunity.  After a few weeks of soul searching, it was obvious that he could not go back to finance.  Life was too short to spend in a job he hated, and the jobs in finance that he found desirable would take years of climbing the corporate ladder, most likely while working long hours and sacrificing time with his family.

But if not finance, then what?  Little by little, Jonathan began to explore potential career options.  He thoroughly examined his strengths, passions, and interests, and eventually the medical field came to the forefront.  Then, he spent time in conversation with friends and contacts in various roles within the field.  Over time, optometry continued to stand out.  He shadowed a few optometrists in Waco and liked what he saw, and he was excited by the potential for building long-term relationships with patients and for using his skills for medical missions.  Medical and dental schools were also considered, but he quickly realized that his primary interest was the eyes.  Opthalmology is one of the most competitive specialties in medicine, and the idea of enduring four years of medical school and only to not be selected for the one specialty he wanted was a gamble we were not willing to take.  Besides, at 28 years old, the idea of another decade of school was not attractive!  Optometry it would be.

Once the decision was made, he was starting at square one.  He had only taken the basic science requirements at our liberal arts university, so he had a full load of science prerequisites to collect before he could even apply to optometry school.  It became clear that we would follow my job leads and that Jonathan would take courses wherever we ended up.

The national conference for my field had gone well, and I had collected campus interviews with several of the universities I had preliminary interviews with at the conference.  I received job offers from two of those institutions, but Jonathan and I were both particularly interested in an opportunity in Kansas City. After traveling to campus for the interview, I felt confident that I was a real contender for the job, and we began to make plans, looking at real estate and planning Jonathan's course load of prerequisites.  I turned down the other two job offers in order to wait for the third, trusting my gut and feeling confident that this third job was mine.  Things were looking up for us, and we just knew we were out of the woods.

I didn't get the job.  I was devastated.  All of our eggs had been in this basket, graduation was weeks away, and our future was completely uncertain.  On another level, this was the first time in my life that I had been turned down from something I pursued, and I was experiencing a whole new set of emotions related to my own pride and rejection.

The rejection phone call came on a Friday.  On Saturday morning, I intended to write one final paper for my program.  It was an optional paper, but our Education Law professor required this paper to get an A in the class.  You could opt out, but if you did you were accepting a B or lower in the course.  Being the perfectionist that I am, I had planned to write the paper, even though it required learning an entirely new form of legal citation rather than the APA format typically used in our field.

That morning, the weight of the previous months, of my fresh rejection, of our complete uncertainty hit me with its fullest force.  The law paper was the straw that broke the camel's back, and the thought of writing it made me want to crawl in a hole and assume the fetal position for a century.  As I moped on our bed, Jonathan reminded me that I didn't have to write the paper.  I reminded him that I did have to write it; the perfectionist in me knew no other way.  In that moment, my GPA felt like the only thing still under my control.

And with that admission, I lost it.  It was the closest I have ever come to a mental breakdown.  I was simultaneously weeping and laughing like a lunatic, and I remember thinking, "This is it.  I am going insane!"

When I managed to calm down, Jonathan left the room and returned with a calculator and my syllabi.  Being the numbers guy that he is, he began to crunch the course values for my program, and for my law class in particular.  When finished, he concluded that making a B in Educational Law would only have an effect of .07 points on my GPA.  It just wasn't worth it.

So instead of the paper, we threw it all to the wind and set out on what we affectionately called the "Poe Family Day of Denial."  We hopped in the car and headed south to Salado, a quaint little town of antique stores and restaurants.  We shopped, we walked, we ate, and we pretended all was right with the world.  Not a word was spoken about where we had been or where we were going.  Everything seemed to be going wrong--we literally could not even guess where we would be a month from then--but for one day we decided not to care.

More to come!