So I work in a cubicle.

Bottom of the food chain too: It’s in a call center for a home security company. I swore I’d never do a desk job again, but even the graveyard janitorial crew wouldn’t hire me, so it was time to swallow my pride.

Besides, after months of eating my roommate’s stale leftover desserts because I couldn’t afford my own calories, any job was a relief.

Last week several family members each spent over 45 minutes questioning every major decision I’ve made in the last 6 months: Why did I break up with my boyfriend? He was such a great young man! Why did I date him if I was just going to break up with him? (Really.) Why wasn’t I in school? Why hadn’t I worked harder to find a job? Why did I need heart surgery NOW? Couldn’ t it wait until I was in a better financial situation? Why hadn’t I taken care of housing earlier? Why wasn’t I living with my parents instead of on my own if I was struggling so much? (There were other more personal complaints… These are just the ones I think you’d relate to.)

After a particularly bad phone call, I was angry and fried and needed to cry, so my friend Leo came to the rescue. At the time, I didn’t have any job prospects, I was about to be homeless, and I had five dollars to my name. No one in my family was both willing and able to help out… I felt broken and alone. The prognosis was dismal, but Leo helped me realize that I’d done my best so I could be at peace about whatever came next.

So I made peace, and tried again, and this job suddenly fell in my lap. At last, an employer that doesn’t require heavy lifting or mind the fact that I’m moving in 3 months! (Ask your doctor if a cubicle is right for you.) So I will spend this gorgeous summer in a 4′x4′, waiting for heart surgery, working off student loans and trying to make customers feel better without actually having the power to solve their problems. =P It’s a humble pill, but I guess it’s where I’m supposed to be.

I’ll be free soon, freer than I have ever been. Soon I’ll be in Cambodia cuddling orphans, or photo-documenting the post-revolutionary development in Egypt.

Or in Taiwan teaching people about Christianity. Or doing wilderness therapy counseling in the boondocks. At very least, I’ll be in school working towards those dreams. If I hold onto that thought, I can keep going.

Initial impression? The natives are friendly, even if the customers aren’t. They finally gave me my very own cubicle. It doesn’t have a name plate yet, so I made my own:

I am armed with imagination and a camera phone. All things are yet possible.