Leaps of Faith

Back in 1994 I decided that pursuing a professional acting career was going to take more energy with weaker rewards than I wanted and I made changes. Of course at the time I wasn't aware of the change or my decision-making process.

I worked in a well-known cafe and had for eight years at that point. I was comfortable. Bills were paid, I had a little money in the bank; but I began to feel as if I was wasting my potential. I was living in a seedy two-room studio. I had to save three months to buy a new futon, forget about new furniture. And when I had friends over to my apartment (which I was actually quite proud of), I could see something reflected in their eyes. It looked like pity, that ultimate insult. Of course I could have been projecting.

At any rate, the first thing I did was find an affordable apartment in a "better" part of town. Usually when someone sends out the call for help to move, it is met with a cavernous echo. In my case I had eight people show up to move me from two rooms. I remember that first morning, waking up in my new apartment, which was really quite modest, and just being thrilled. I had new, second-hand furniture that I'd recovered myself. I painted the woodwork.

A few weeks later the owner of the cafe decided that he was going to charge the waitstaff the credit card fees. If a customer used a credit card to pay the bill, three percent of that sale, including tip, was deducted from the server's tips.

Now, in those days it didn't take much to work me up into a huff and that sent me over the edge. I gave my notice. No one really took it seriously. I'd given my notice before. It was well known how comfortable I was and painfully obvious I had no appreciably marketable skills. And I had a new apartment that cost twice what I'd been paying before. No one thought I could afford to quit.

But quit I did. It was clear that computer skills were the thing I needed, so every day at 2:00 I went to the Harold Washington Library and sat down with the tutorials and learned just enough to fake it. At that time WordPerfect and Word were battling for market control and about half the world used each. I learned enough to say in an interview I was familiar with their chosen software, but that I really worked on the other, but I was sure that I could learn theirs quickly.

This was before the days of e-mail, so all resumes were sent on paper. I was unemployed for about ten weeks. Money was tight, but I never for a second considered going back to waiting tables. Getting responses to a resume with virtually no experience on it was tough. At the end, in the same week I interviewed with a religious organization and porn production company. Both interviews went exceedingly well and to celebrate I went to Crate & Barrel and spent $100 on picture frames. A few days later both organizations offered me a job. It was a tough call, but ultimately I thought it would be easier to move on with a religious organization on my resume instead of a job title of "Porn Marketer."

I remember the excitement of that summer. It was filled with possibilities. There was a very real chance that I'd lose my apartment, my precious broken-down furniture, my sapling credit rating, and have to go back, tail between my legs and beg for shifts at the cafe. It didn't happen.

I felt the same sort of excitement in 2003 when I left the HR job with the manufacturing company and on the train ride home decided that no matter what, I was going to get my masters degree. Within the time I got on the train and twenty minutes later I'd formulated a plan in my head, got off the train and walked into that same cafe and picked up shifts. That time the excitement was tinged with real dread. I'd just signed the mortgage on my condo and hadn't even made my first payment. Yet with very little effort or planning I moved forward and everything worked out.

I feel the same excitement I did in 1994, and the same level of anxiety. I can't explain it, but the launch of that website reaffirmed that I can do anything. I like leaping into the unknown and making it work. I'm good at it.