Or at least it saves this gal an anxiety attack followed by a streak of depressing attitude. **I originally saw that line as a facebook group – “Let’s eat grandma!” vs. “Let’s eat, grandma!” Punctuation saves lives! and thought it was hysterically funny. Nearly as funny as The Oatmeal. Can you tell I’m a grammar junkie? I take on such noble causes because I’m such a horribly bad speller. (In my opening line I tried to use the word “baught” or “bowt” or ba-out but the google spellcheck had zero suggestions. Streak it is.)

But let us return to the story at hand. Punctuation. And the stress it can induce. And this story isn’t even coming from a horrendous resume.

Today the husband sent a text informing me that one of the positions for which he interviewed had been filled. Boo. I was sad. We were a little hopeful, specifically because it was within a commutable distance from our current dwelling, not to mention the perk of the tremendously cheap babysitting within a mile of the school. We had an inkling that he didn’t get the job, but hearing it outright is never fun.

I sent a message to my dad asking who had filled the spot and he did not know. There are no more than 16 people who live in that town yet he was still without intel. I told him that perhaps, then, husband must’ve received a call [inferring: that he didn’t get the job] because the position was filled. My father thought I was being a smarty pants and thought husband did get the job. His response via text: “He got it!!!”

You are correct. Those are exclamation points. Not a single question mark. 

Imagine seeing that one come through. So I quickly cut off the lube technician (hehe, yes, that’s what they’re called) I was interviewing and called husband to find out what in the sam hillfire was going on. And we discovered the confusion.

I was told that he didn’t get the job. Twice. In one day. The same job. And my hopes sunk deeper every time.

I know it probably seems as if I’m selfishly hoping that he gets a job soon to relieve my own self from working, but honestly it’s not the case. I’ll likely continue working the same hours if he gets a position. If he doesn’t find something, I might have to go full time, but there *might* be a little part of me that would actually enjoy that (the work. Not being the hero. Husband is much better at hero endeavors).

What I want so much is for husband to have the opportunity to do what he enjoys, what I know he does so well. I want to know the past 2.5 years have been worth it. I want him to experience the joy of taking pride of a job well done – not just at the end of every day, but also in knowing the sacrifice he put forth to get this far, going back to school as an adult and earning a second degree. We changed jobs, homes, communities, churches… all so we could chase this dream. I can’t bear to think that the dream will slip through our fingertips this year and that we’ll have to wait another 365 days to try again.

But alas, one of the many reasons I love him: he is still hopeful. He had an interview today that went splendidly. He has interviews scheduled for Friday and Monday. As quoted in the movie… “…beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it’s the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will…”

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