With the dial tone ringing in my ear, I shook my head. Plans, Erica? Maybe curling up on the couch for a Grey’s Anatomy marathon. To never know if this could have been my chance? Utter silliness.
I gulped in a big breath and hit redial. “You know? I’ve canceled my plans. Saturday noon work for you?”
It was the first real possibility in a long line of empty attempts in obtaining gainful employment on a ranch, and I was scared. I never would have admitted it at the time, but now I can nod and tell it like it was.
Scared that it wouldn’t pan out.
Scared that it would.
It’s difficult to explain how terrifying a dream can be when it suddenly orbits within reach. Dreams are easy to talk about when they’re floating on a fuzzy horizon. They are infinitely harder to live when they swoop so close you can see their belt loops.
I had busted my tail in pursuit of my dream of working on a cattle ranch. And all of my best efforts lay alongside a heap of rejections. I’d started to give up. To the point that my application for this job lay on my kitchen table for days before I finally plunked it in the mailbox.
Because even though I wanted to work on a cattle ranch in the hardest way imaginable, I was equally worried about how I would handle such a seismic shift in my landscape should it become reality. I mean, what if I…failed?
Ah, there it was. Truth peeping out from the pile of excuses it’d been hiding under.
Of course there was the usual apprehension about leaving friends. Parting with a place I loved. Stepping out of the comfort of a job I knew how to do into the arms of a job filled with unknowns.
But really I was just scared I would fail, and in the moment that phone call came, it was easier to put off a potentially life-changing moment than it was to grab hold and wrestle it to the ground.