Day 15: All Tom, All the Time

Before you start reading this, I am going to ask you to kindly get your grace face on because today's kindness was not all that impressive.  Many of you know that Tom and I began our Adventures of Unemployment this past summer and it has been a wild ride.  I have been  a bit of a crazy person  awesome and supportive, the true picture of patience.  As much as I have loved this wild ride, I am ready for a new ride... one that has a salary and health insurance.

Despite Tom's diligent pursuit of a new job, he has not had any real solid leads until now.  Last week he had a phone interview with RIT (Rochester Institute of Technology) and he was asked back for a face-to-face interview tomorrow.  He will also have to give a presentation to a panel of brilliant and intimidating people that hold our future in their technologically advanced hands.

I think it goes without saying that Tom has explosive diarrhea.

So, Day 15 (sort of) is that when I was going out to do my Random Act of Kindness this evening, my poor husband begged me to "sit down and listen to him practice his presentation."  He meant to say, "...for one hundred million hours" at the end of that, but forgot I guess.

He insisted that my  mom  readers would understand and would accept this as the greatest kindness I could bestow.  I doubted that very seriously, so I vow to double up on kindnesses tomorrow... but, let me just tell you that doing this for Tom was not without difficulty given out personal limitations.

There is a sort of cocktail of problems really:

1. I come from a heritage of coaching.  Not just any coach, but a wrestling coach, so I come by these struggles naturally.  When I am put in a situation where I am asked to give guidance or a little gentle feedback, I furiously scribble notes, and yell criticisms spontaneously from the corner.  Tonight was no exception.  I was firmly coaching Tom through the whole presentation, which was maybe the opposite of helpful.
2. Tom comes from a heritage of worry warts.  Not just any worriers, but the explosive diarrhea variety, so he comes by his struggles naturally as well.  When he is put in a situation where someone is shout-coaching him with disproportionate intensity, he will exhibit bizarre and rarely seen behaviors including, but not limited to:

• An odd Grease Lightningesque hair flicking.
• Vocalizing various explosion-style sound effects.
• Doing, what could only be described as, tribal gyrations.

Once I had aggressively "coached" him to the point of gyrations, I felt a sense that I had said too much.  So, I apologized and backed it down a notch.  His behavior normalized and we were much more productive.  I didn't laugh one single time (except for the first two minutes, straight) and he got through the whole thing several (thousand) times flawlessly.  

So... Day 15.  I helped my husband, sort of.

I have the utmost confidence in Tom, and I have faith that if this job isn't the right one for our family then God has something in store for us that will make us look more and more like Him in the long run.  As a kindness to us, though, it wouldn't hurt if you pray for Tom's interview.  Like, non-stop.  Seriously, please start now... lest the gyrations make an appearance during the interview.