How I Ended up In DC

Back in March, I panicked for a very simple reason. I hadn't planned out my life. I had a gaping hole between 27 April and 1 September and like any reasonable, semi-reasonable or even unreasonable student, I had to fill it.

What any student does over the summer is rarely something that's given huge consideration. Most students, just go home where plenty of options exist; work at a theme park, a grocery store, child care, take a class perhaps and don't forget, visiting friends, the beach, a good brai, perhaps visit fellow students in other locations but definitely, let mom do the cooking.

Or...there's the ambitious options. I realized I fell into this category...after I feel into this category. And while internships sound ambitious...uhh...it's not really. So back in March I applied for, 1) A job at my local library, 2) A job at Summer Peacebuilding Institute, and 3) an internship with Women for Women International in Washington DC. Budget cuts and the library didn't pan out. I've already blogged about the richly educational and highly entertaining values which SPI imparted on this lowly staff-er. But what about WWI? Amazingly, that opportunity also knocked on my door.

I learned about WWI from a friend who also did her academic practicum there. I applied. Never thought I'd get it and was dually impressed when I was offered a summer internship in their sponsorship department. Actually, I was elated, ecstatic...I may have squealed because it was Easter break and I had my suite to myself.

So...while working at SPI, I contacted a friend who contacted her church who informed me someone in their congregation had extended family that were looking for a new tenet for their basement apartment. That panned out too. And then after SPI (and hording some of the groceries our participants left), I stored my belongs, connected with someone driving up to DC from Harrisonburg, and...voila! That's how I ended up in DC!

I'm excited. I haven't been in DC since 1995 when my dad ran the Marine Corps Marathon but I do remember thinking the moon rock was cool and the White House was boring. Nearly 15 years later, I'm here for big city therapy after being trapped in a mid-sized American town. Maybe trapped isn't the right adjective. What I really need is metro-ridding therapy.