Twice in a Lifetime, Part One

You may ask yourself, "Well, how did I get here?"

- Talking Heads

I recently left my dream job for my new dream job. It’s fascinating how easy it is to walk away from something that you thought was be a part of your life forever, something you don’t realize until after you’ve done the actual walking away. But on the other side of it, you wonder what took you so long. This is not an oversimplification found on one of those wall hangings at HomeGoods - sometimes you really don’t know what you’ve done until it’s done.

I worked for Clemson for almost 16 years. Maybe 17, it gets fuzzy. I’ve spent the majority of my adult life up this point as a support system for Clemson students. This was my dream. I knew when I finished college that I wanted to be one of those really excited, really committed, and super dedicated folks that keep a university humming, even though they are often overshadowed by faculty and alumni donors. To chose to work in higher education is to choose to be an emotional sherpa to young adults figuring out what exactly being an adult is, even if you don’t know yourself. I loved my job, almost every bit of it. My career started as an admissions counselor, selling the dream of the Clemson experience to 18 year olds. It was really fun. I got to recruit students to join me on campus at the happiest place on earth, like Disney World if it were coated in orange and southern hospitality.

I met some of my closest friends during those years, and maintained an impressive orange wardrobe. Preaching the Orange Gospel was my favorite thing about Clemson (other than football, obviously). I got to travel the country and meet kids and their families. I also got to experience just how far parents are willing to keep their kids happy. You never really see how angry and nasty a southern parent can get until you don’t admit little Mary Grace to her dream school. I mean, she was held as a baby by Danny Ford himself! It’s destiny! Other than the parental anger (and sometimes threats), I really loved what I was doing.

After six years, I took a chance and moved on, taking a job working with current students as an advisor. I was a Mama Bear to freshman engineers, and it was such a joy. The lesson that I had to learn was how to balance making a difference in the lives of my students, and being there for the best and worst life lessons with a boss that was a bully who had no ability or desire to do her job in a way that served our students. People who know know who this person is. I lasted for 4 years before I just had to go, even though I hated leaving my precious engineers behind. Don’t worry about her, she got a raise and was moved to another department, she’ll be fine, I guess. And no, I haven’t forgiven her.

That brings me to my last Clemson position, as an Academic Advisor for a graduate level Business program. I loved this position. It was probably my favorite. I was given freedom and autonomy here, and the ability to do my best work in the best way for me. Not all of my students were easy, but the majority of them were amazing, and I was always so excited to support them and help them do well. Most importantly, my supervisors and coworkers didn't think that it was weird to have interests outside of Clemson. They supported me as an artist, a working comedian, and finally a writer. I learned so much from everyone I worked with, even though I still can’t spell “entrepreneurship” without help.

So what was my inciting incident? The whole world shut down for a year. I worked from home, and performing improv wasn’t possible (you just can’t justify performing in a basement theater with people laughing and expelling at you, I guess). I felt a true loss for direction. I went from 2-3 shows a week to nothing. At that point, I had been studying and learning writing for television for a year. So I made the choice to double down, and use my “hermit year” to really dedicate my time to fully obsess about the craft of the written word for TV and film. In that process, I changed my own life without realizing it. After two years, I took a chance, submitted for a writing position on my literal dream show, and got the job. Simple sentence, but one that was a grenade that propelled me from one dream to another. Six months later, I haven’t woken up to find that I imagined it all. Consider the last time that you woke up after an intense and vivid dream. For those first five minutes you can still picture the dream (whether you understand it or not) and you are trying to figure out what it all means and whether you will be able to get back there if you just close your eyes. Right now, I’m in a space where my eyes are open, and I’m pleasantly surprised that the dreamscape is suddenly, incredibly, and blissfully real.