I had just moved into the Dreamhouse (where we currently live) and had been here for a month. I had FINALLY cleaned it to the point where I felt it was livable and it didn't smell weird anymore. I was planning my wedding in July (going insane) and attempting to workout each morning.
I was stressed. I had just graduated college. I was trying to apply to EACH and EVERY school in our county, paperwork was up to my eyeballs and I was writing cover letters in my dreams. My resume was "on point" and I was sure I'd get a job.
June flies by...
July flies by...
I still didn't have a job.
August begins...
August 13th is a day I will never forget because I had accepted the offer to be a Spanish Teacher at the local highschool. A 2 mile drive, 10 minutes on snowy days, and a small town community feel was the perfect start to my teaching career. Although it wasn't Elementary education, I had high aspirations for my classroom.
Between graduating college, wedding planning, getting married, moving into the dreamhouse, attempting to fix up the dreamhouse, job searching, and beginning my first year of teaching, I had gained 20 pounds.
GAINED.
TWENTY.
POUNDS.
Of course, you all saw my journey, where I kicked butt on the 21 day fix, became a Beachbody coach, and am working my way to losing WAY more than the 20 pounds I gained due to stress. You saw, you all cheered me on, and for that I am forever grateful.
But maybe what you didn't know, is that my Spanish teaching job was simply for one year (because I'm not certified to teach Spanish). It's only for one year unless I take a lot of college classes this summer. But that just isn't in our budget, and it only gets me one more year of teaching Spanish anyways.
"But it's okay!", I told myself. You can just apply to places, or maybe move and apply some more.
Well folks, here I am again.
I've applied everywhere I could possible think of. We've considered moving to multiple states. But here I am again, knowing this week is my last week of school at Salisbury, in my little Spanish classroom. Knowing that once Friday comes, I'm probably going to have a mental breakdown because I officially won't have any plans for the coming school year.
THIS IS NOT ME. I LOVE PLANS.
I'm terrified guys. I'm not terrified of not having a plan (I mean, I kinda am....but in reality, I did everything I can do). I'm terrified of what happened last summer. I'm terrified of gaining 20 pounds due to stress - without changing my eating habits. My body simply just shut down.
I'm obviously not planning another wedding, that was a stresser for sure, but what if I end up planning a move? Those are equally as stressful! What if I never find a job and Jared and I are forced to really really really dig deep into our financial situation? WHAT IF I GAIN 20 POUNDS AGAIN.
NOT HAPPENING. I refuse to let it happen. I'm arming myself with the best things out there and I'm going to take this summer back. I'm not letting it happen to me again. NEVER.
I'm trying so hard to trust Jesus, dear friends. I know that He already has a super huge amazing plan that is laid out perfectly and I know that He's probably laughing at my freak-outs and my silly google searches on teaching across the United States. I know that He knows the desire in my heart, the desire I have to fill a classroom with little children and to teach them, guide them, and help them grow. For now, just pray for me.
Because I'm at the starting line again, but this time..the race is going to look differently :)
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