Two years one day ago, I started my first real job while still in college. Before that, the bulk of what I did every now and then was freelance work and dreaming.
I sent a neat little CV as a response to a newspaper ad for a vacant post. The post was open for online editors. I didn’t believe anything would come out of it, but I sent the required anyway just to lull my sudden desire to find a job.
Five days later while hanging out around the languages center on campus, reading some book, I got a call from my future employers. They wanted to meet me! I could not believe my ears and yet, in a controlled sense of self-importance, I decided I was not available for an interview the day after. I had class, or something.
The interview got shifted to another day that suited me. It was a Monday. I went, there was an exam and I was surprised. I remember the strangest thing about that day; I had recently returned from the states and I kept talking in English for no apparent reason. It was very ridiculous especially since the lady at the office talked to me in Arabic. I must have been nervous underneath it all because I could not stop my linguistic clumsiness.
I also thought that lady was a bitch. But maybe I was projecting.
On Thursday I went again, this time for the interview. According to my Armenian lady boss*, who has since become one of my best friends, I did very well on that sudden exam. I waited for about five minutes for her to arrive, and I remember reading some Greek drama in the meantime. My very decorated “Turkey” bookmark caught her attention, and when she asked if my mother was Turkish I could sense some hostility in her voice. I said no. Of course not.
Several months later, I made the connection that explained the hostility. Armenian, Turkey, I’m slow.
When I reflect on that, I cannot grasp how two whole years have gone by already. Somewhere deep in my mind I am still the over-dressed girl reading a book and waiting for her interviewer to arrive already, still the girl who hated wearing high heels to the office, still the girl who found out how stupidly sensitive people get during the FIFA World Cup. But at the same time, I am not any of these girls anymore. They are gone, and that time has elapsed.
Is this the way I will feel about my life when I am 50? By asking the dumb question of “how did that happen?”
*Not the same lady I mentioned earlier as the “lady at the office.”
When you’re 50 ? well at least your blog will be a time capsule to remind you what you were like !<br /><br />I had many Armenian friends in school, and I remember one day in English class the teacher asked everyone to pick a topic and write about it, and 2 of the Armenians both decided to write about how much they hate turks ! Apparently, more than 90 years ago Turkey massacred thousands of Armenians, and since then it seems Armenian parents teach their kids to hate Turks. Even those who have never even been to either Armenia or Turkey !<br />
<I><span id="printableVersion">Is this the way I will feel about my life when I am 50? By asking the dumb question of “how did that happen?”</I><br /><br />I think that’s more or less how it works.<br /></span>
Your armenian ex-boss is one amazing lady!! I am glad you did turn into friends later on, please tell her I said hi!!
<p>She really is amazing, Salam. One of my role models actually :)</p>
<p>Oh and the first lady I referred to as the "lady at the office" was not her! Just so we’re clear on this, everyone!!</p>
It was clear, don’t worry!!
<p>Yeah, years sure fly by!</p>
<p>When you get out of college and start working, life changes, and so do you. Routines, hangouts, expenses, surrounding environments, every thing changes This also triggers a change in you, or it brigns out parts of you that you didn’t know exist.</p>
<p>May be when you are 50, you will look back and say: "<em>I’m glad this happened :-)" </em>Just let us know then :P</p>
I really liked this post.. I always think of my past the same way :)
Of course she’s cool; cause she’s Armenian ;-). It’s interesting how one’s personality develops with time, especially when you’re below 25. I think it’s better to change and progress and adapt to new circumstances, than to remain stuck in the past.