Dandelion, Big People Jobs and Devils, Transplanted and Still Blooming, Cinthia Milner

Big-People Jobs and Devils

I need to find a woman named Sheila and say, hey, thanks for all the truisms. She came through again this week.

I was panicking over the fact that I still have absolutely no plan for my life and should probably come up with one. (This is a regular on my panic list.) I was contemplating applying for a big-people job (regular hours, regular pay, air conditioning, french manicures, benefits, etc.) but the potential place of employment is known for its bad politics and a chick that is simultaneously powerful,  power crazy, and just plain crazy.

I’m gabbing away to my friend, Jen, about this potential big-people, albeit disastrous job, and she quotes Sheila. (Sheila is Jen’s friend. We’ve never met, but I love how women know each without knowing each other because we’re friends with each other’s friends.)

Anyway, here’s Sheila’s quote. The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know.

My, my.

That one fits right up there with the grass being greener. Oh, the applications.

Because the devils are mine. The one I know and the one I don’t know. They’re a part of myself that is just as cra cra as the power hungry chick, and they’ve had a recent field day with me over the big-people job and my reluctance to go for it.

  • You’re afraid of that woman. Yes, I am. Everyone is. It is right to be so.
  • You’re afraid of change. You betcha. I’ve had enough change in the last decade to, well, last.
  • You’re afraid you aren’t smart enough. I am smart, but smart enough? I don’t know. 
  • You’re afraid someone will find out you aren’t who you say you are. Surely to the Lord everyone already knows that, don’t they? 

I leave my devils to their conversation. It’s not a new one, anyway.

I decide I don’t want the job because, air conditioning and all that, I’m not ready for change. It’s good to have an actual reason when not going for french manicures and health insurance because the devils can make me doubt myself, cause me to wonder if my decisions are based on how the wind blows.

I give myself permission to skip the big-people job and go home, where I’m the only crazy woman in residence. I decide that conquering my devils is befriending my devils, both those known and those unknown. It’s like the monster in the closet. When you turn the light on, you discover it’s only your shadow.