I told you last week that my husband had an amazing job interview and asked for lots of prayer. Now I think I can divulge a little more information. The address of the “house” at which he was interviewing is in the title. The location is right there at the convergence of Maryland, Virginia and the Potomac. (You know me and safety. I’m going to let you figure that one out instead of spelling it out for the bad guys).
Du was one of four guys to be invited to interview for the position and when he first told me about his opportunity my first thought was, “uh oh…how deeply will they look at you?” Because what I really meant was me, of course. I haven’t been flattering with my opinions neither here nor on Facebook. Any and everyone can read this blog and I have no doubt there are hackers out there who can get into Facebook if someone “needs to be looked at”.
And despite what you may think (because you know what I think) I was so excited for the possibility of actually him working and us visiting there. I mean, I could just envision us getting and giving personal tours whenever we had guests in town; the grand balls that I would have to get a new dress for each time; the girls playing with M@li@ and S@sh@ in scheduled and highly secure play dates; the obligatory Christmas photo his boss takes with each couple who works in that special place (that I would photoshop funny faces on); the amazing blog posts I’d be able to write. Some of those might have been pipe dreams, but we’re all being encouraged to dream a little out of our comfort zones right now aren’t we?
During the interview process Du was taken on a tour of the House and “ran into” a couple of people you may have heard about or seen.* His potential boss has a wife (who may or may not have fashion sense, the verdict is still out). Yes, Du saw her walking down some stairs (I didn’t even ask him what she was wearing, shame on me). His potential boss also has a right hand man (or is that left hand man? He is left-handed you know) who uses the term MiamiVice. Yes, that one actually said something like, “how’s it going?” to my husband as they passed in a hallway. He also saw the new amba$$ador to the U N (when he mentioned the name Rice I thought he was talking about Condi at first and almost fainted right then and there). It was a big day, people, for someone who is as much of a political junkie as he is. And it was almost as big a day for me as I lived vicariously through him.
Even though he did his best and even dropped my name a couple of times he did not get the job. Shocking and surprising, I know. I’m convinced they either already knew who they were giving the job to and had to go through the interview process to check the appropriate boxes, OR one of the other applicants is a gushing, sickeningly over-the-top lover of the new @dmini$tr@tion and did whatever he had to do to get the job…or…they really did look into what I was writing and decided they couldn’t take the chance. The world may never know.
So, for now, I am still praying that our next mission field still will be in the c@pital even if it’s not directly right at the heartbeat of things. Living around there, even during the next four years, would be an exciting adventure that I want to ride up front, white knuckled, no seat belt, and no holds barred.
*Whereas “ran into” normally means you actually run into someone or at least casually meet them, here, to me, it means that he laid eyes on them. Doesn’t it just sound better?