mere mortals

so, i asked.

i was nervous, but i asked.  apparently all i had to do was ask.  he chuckled and shook his head and told me the way i wanted to do things was just fine.  the wild thing is that, had i not asked, i'd be struggling and paying and hurting to do this thing that in the end, was totally negotiable.  and i felt...free.  so free.  free to finally have just a year left, and to be able to say "by this time next year..." and have it be a place that includes a real salary and an office and some autonomy: incredible.  after eight years of postgrad training, the last countdown has begun.

even better than that, though, was what happened next.  we had a department pool party & bbq at our chairman's home this weekend.  after hours of agonizing about what sort of a apparel is appropriate for such an event, i got my husband and daughter and a few bags of diapers / pool toys / clothing changes together, and headed across town to see the home of the man i revere the most at work.  he seems to know everything.  everyone loves him.  i am terrified, in light of his complete awesomeness and my obvious inexperience, that he'll fire me before he's even fully hired me since we're working more closely together this year than ever before.  i anticipated his home to be completely perfect, his children brilliant and articulate, his wife model-esque.  what i learned is that he has a nice home, with normal kids, a kind wife, and seventeen cats. 

lo and behold, the man is just...a man.  i am relieved to realize that if, in the end, my mentor is just another human with his own quirks and flaws, then he probably won't be mortally disappointed when he discovers that i'm a human too, as quirky and flawed as i am.

moral of the story: it pays to ask for what you want, and even the most successful of men may have to share their homes with a large cohort of cats. how funny.