I Am A Chicken

The last few weeks have been rough for me. Although my baby is preparing to start school in the fall and I’m excited, I’m also pretty anxious. I’ve been out of the workforce for about four years now, and I feel inept. It’s been a while since I’ve had to be given direction or expected to do something I may not be fully thrilled about but getting paid to do it. It’s been a while since I’ve had somewhere I’ve HAD to be more than once a week with people seriously counting on me and my feedback or insight.

For the past four years, I’ve been my own boss. I have been the Director of Communications, Director of Management, Director of Finance, Executive Director…I mean, I’m not sure how well I’ll fair being under the rules and regulations of another human being again. Someone is probably going to expect me to be at a desk for more than six hours a day, staring at a computer the majority of the day, and occasionally even communicate with people I don’t know and may not like. What’s worse is that they just may want me to leave my babies for the first time ever overnight on business trips. 

I’ve been psyching myself up since the beginning of this year, and honestly, it’s not working. I submitted an application the other day for a job that was not quite my best. I was so rusty on resume building and at a loss for words for my cover letter, so I omitted it. It would literally take an act of God and have to be God’s divine will for me to receive some sort of positive contact from the hiring manager.

Funnily, I just got off the phone with a dear friend whose dream I was in last night. Out of curiosity, I pushed and pushed for details, only to find that in the dream this friend had, we were talking and after a few minutes, I turned into a chicken once we arrived at our destination.  Apparently, we were both excited, as we hadn’t seen each other in a while, but I guess at some point, when we were to enter the building we were in front of, I literally chickened out. Just before my ‘transformation’, per my friend, I had gone from speaking confidently to being nervous once we got there.

“So…,” I asked my friend as the voice silenced on the other end of the phone, “did I eventually go inside? Did I eventually turn back into myself?”

According to my friend, that’s the moment that reality came to be and the dream ended due to the dawn of day. Disappointed, I’ve been pondering what this could possibly mean. Could it be that this dream speaks directly to me and my cold feet about returning to the workforce? If I remained a chicken, is that some sort of nudge to man up and move forward? If I returned to my normal form, does that mean I’m going to find my inner confidence, step out, and succeed?

All my friend responded was, “Now that the secret’s out that you’re afraid, you have to overcome it. You’re a chicken, so stop being a chicken and do something about it.”

I’ll admit, that’s easier said than done. Yes, I, Esther Zufelt, am a chicken, but I don’t intend on being one for much longer.