My job requires a lot of driving, talking, asking, walking, crouching, finding…mostly just moving around and using brain space in general. I’m tired from conversation and activity at the end of most work days.
But I have this two-three day window each month, between assignments, where I sit at my desk most of the day. I organize, I work through ongoing projects, I clean my office, I update photo catalogs. These are the days that I catch up on everything that doesn’t get priority over interviews and photo shoots. This week was that sweet spot.
Yesterday, I printed off paper after paper, shuffling and stapling. I got into a rhythm and as soon as I missed a beat, a wave of nostalgia rushed over me. My first job ever was over 17 years ago, printing and shuffling and stapling papers for my dad’s business. I would stand for hours, creating packets for new homeowners. I swear, at nine years old, I could have told you everything expect when you buy a new home because I read so much about it that year.
But I valued that job so much. I remember feeling like a big kid, like I could be trusted with something. It was my first taste of real responsibility. I felt like that again yesterday. I felt trusted with this job, even the paper filing part of it. Mentally, I went back over all the stories I’ve heard in the year and a half I’ve been here. I was so humbled to be trusted with people’s experiences, struggles, heartache. And so excited to remember the success at the end of these stories. The poignant moments of true life change.
I am so grateful to be trusted. And grateful to be reminded that the small things, like three days of down time, prepare me for the big days.