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by guest blogger Ashley Schneider
There he is. That guy. The employee I lied to about not having a YMCA membership, so I could test out the facilities for free. Why is he always working when I want to sweat it out? He knows I lied, too. Shortly after my tale of being new to the neighborhood, I found out that I could actually afford the fee to join due to my work discount and reactivated my membership. So now, every time he scans my ID it pops up that I’ve been a long time member; a lying long-time member.
I avoid eye contact, grab a towel and get away from him fast. I just know one day he’s going to call me out.
I love this crowded, smelly gym. It’s mine and not even facing someone I told a little white lie to multiple times a week can keep me away. I like my bike in the middle back row of spin class. My spot in the group cardio class is front left and, if that guy would get off my set of rotating stairs, life would be perfect.
You see, I fit in this city like a hand in a glove. Like Dolly and her…well, you know.
Corner Pub Green Hills is my neighborhood bar. Marche is my restaurant and Centennial Park is where all the magic and miles happen. I’ve got friends here who’ve known me since I was 13 years old; when I was all arms and legs trying to learn how to shoot a basketball. Other friends I’ve bonded with over jobs, costumes, friends of friends and the occasional trip to the water park. When I walk the sidewalks of 12th South Avenue and see the patio at Mafiazo’s full and other fellow Nashvillians enjoying their frozen Las Paletas treat, I feel a sense of pride. An almost ownership of the city, if you will.
When the flood came, I picked up supplies, volunteers and countless pounds of soaked wet drywall. I found a church I can completely relate to and a kickball team whose motto is “We may not be the best, but we’re the most fun.”
But what if one day, the perfect job I didn’t even know existed fell into my lap? But this job was in Portland or Boston or Phoenix? The dream job would feed my need for creativity, my daily tasks constantly changed, I found it challenging, sporty, full of relationship building and of course, paid amazing. Here I am at age 29.5, single, with friends, family and memories rooted six years deep in Music City.
Do you leave your happy established life for a chance at a dream job or does your happy established life outweigh the 8 to 5 you’ve always wished for?
Do you stay or do you go?
About the guest blogger: I met Ashley almost two years ago when I started working at Thomas Nelson publishers in Nashville. She does marketing for our fiction division and is absolutely hilarious. She recently started what has become the “healthy desk” trend in our office, being the first to create a stand-up desk. When she’s not brilliantly marketing Christian fiction and being a trend-setter, she maintains a very entertaining blog at Chatterbox.
I believe in questions. I say this a lot; I’ll say it again…