The Long Silence And Sudden Shout

Reading my last blog post was interesting. Three years, almost to the day. Actually, to the day! So much has happened, it feels like I've lived a lifetime in those three years. My professional life, meaning my regular job because writing has not yet borne financial fruit, has changed many times over. This torrent of change is the largest reason for the three-year silence and break from writing. Even my Dungeons & Dragons campaign suffered major losses in attention, time, and creativity because of the mad dash from job to job that I've made.

Some context: I work in property management. When I truly dove into this journey of pursuing authorship, I had lived in the Pacific Northwest for just under a year, had switched employers to gain advancement in my professional career, and COVID had just reared its snarling head to the world. Free time was abundant, life was otherwise at a stand-still, and there was plenty of room to breathe, think, create, etc. At the time, I was an Assistant Manager at the apartment community where I lived, so it was even easier because we were cut down to three, three-hour days a week. I would clock out at 1pm, walk down the hallway, and write.

There was a brief romance, which was a huge step for me because I had begun to suspect I was completely broken and incapable of trusting again, but it ended suddenly and without closure. The good news was I had discovered I wasn't broken and actually could love again. The bad news was six months had disappeared in the blink of an eye while I focused on pursuits of the heart rather then my writing.

Then, as does with any romance ending, came the heartbreak. The pain was exquisite. Not quite as deep a cut as the previous heartbreak that had sent me hurtling into the world of property management and the PNW, but it was this dull throbbing that gripped my chest for the better part of a year while oddly juxtaposed by this newfound hope from the fact that I had actually loved deeply enough to feel said pain.

As I tend to do whenever a persistent internal pain nags at me, I poured myself into my work. I transferred to another community after being told by my regional manager that I had no room to grow where I was. I won't say it was the wrong move, but it was a challenging one. I was driving up a mountain to work every day and the job was three times the work while still holding the same title and pay. The idea was, the manager at the new property was going to leave after I was trained up to take their place. So, with work requiring much more energy, both mental and emotional, and my heart still thrumming with the intense longing for someone I couldn't have, I did not return to my writing.

I'm sure you can see where this is going, by now. The promotion didn't happen and the manager didn't leave, so I did. I quietly applied and interviewed for other jobs over a span of six patient months until I found the position I wanted on a team that felt right. That team happened to be the roving team of another company. The firefighters. The triage unit, if you will. It was originally designed to simply cover absences for properties that didn't have more than one person in the same position. But, the company was a strange amalgamation of new to multifamily with old problems because they had made their foray into the world of multifamily by acquiring another company, along with all that company's challenges. So, the roving team became the cleanup crew. Got a dumpster fire of admin paperwork or long-past-due payables? We'll send a rover to put it out. Got a manager out on maternity leave with no coverage for three months? We'll send a rover. I was that rover.

I had finally gained the title of Property Manager, but it wasn't as predictable as "here, this is your property now." It was more along the lines of "we need you over here, two hours away, for two weeks to help clean up X mess and figure out Y mystery while also catching up Z payables." It was fun, challenging, and exciting. I was never bored, though, I'm still not but we'll get to that. Every day/week/month could be a new assignment with new and interesting challenges to overcome. For six months I did this until I met the property that nearly broke me.

You see, I'm a workaholic. I preach to my teams about protecting their personal time whilst practicing the timeless "do as I say, not as I do" style of advice. I encourage my teams to take breaks throughout the day, ensure they get a lunch hour, and even go out of my way to find coverage so they have no excuse not to take time off. But, I don't do this for myself. My boss regularly had to push hard for me to agree to take an extra day off once in a while. This mentality was coupled with a long-term assignment at the second most challenging property I have ever seen (the first was only a two week assignment so it didn't affect me nearly as much). I managed, I fixed a LOT of the issues, but it took such a toll that the stress made me physically sick, forcing me to take time off and fall back behind on a few of the duties.

One candid conversation with my boss later and I suddenly found myself asking "how much longer can I do this at every property I go to?" I was 35, six years into property management, single, and unaccomplished in the personal goals and dreams I've wanted to pursue my entire life. It became very clear this busy, random, and chaotic job was not sustainable for my long-term wellbeing or the things I wanted to accomplish for myself. Then, the offer came.

The three-month assignment extended into budget season and the regional manager for that property was holding a budget meeting at our corporate office for all the managers in her portfolio. It's worth mentioning that these managers were true colleagues for the past three months. Each one was friendly, helpful, encouraging, and a shining example of what property managers should always be. One, in particular, emails the entire team every Wednesday encouraging us to share our wins for the week and promoting positivity amongst all of us. We have weekly Teams meetings with the regional where we can pick eachother's brains for advice and the arbiter of WINsday emails, we'll call her...Nicole, always has this smile on her face throughout the entire thing, projecting the impression that she just loves our team and is happy to see our faces on her screen. It's an incredibly boost to morale and is one of the reasons I was able to keep going through the most difficult three months of my career.

Anyway, I digress. Admiration for my colleague aside, here we all were in this budget meeting, in-person for the first time since I had begun the assignment in this portfolio. We were smiling, laughing, joking, and just having a great time. I'll repeat that: we were having a great time...in a fucking BUDGET MEETING. So, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself and the company of these amazing people, when I notice this client (each portfolio is comprised of properties owned by a single entity or company) offers a housing discount for employees. I mentioned this and Nicole pipes up and says "yeah! You could live on-site!" To which I respond "I couldn't. They wouldn't give the discount to a rover." Her comeback was immediate and accompanied by a sly grin "You could if you were a permanent manager in the portfolio!" I look at my screen and fire off my retort "Yeah, but I see this budget and they couldn't afford me to be the permanent manager of [the property I was currently covering]." It was now the Regional Manager's turn to chime in. "It wouldn't be [that property]."

This stunned me. For nearly a month I had suspected they were going to ask me to take a permanent role at the property I had been covering, but I didn't know there were other options and it was only a half-suspicion, anyway. The overly self-critical part of me imagined I was failing miserably at the property I was at and a constant annoyance to the Regional with my incessant questions. In my stupor, all I could manage to say in response was "what?" The Regional kept her face expressionless to show she was serious then said "there's going to be an opening for a manager at [another property], and I was hoping you might be interested in taking it." I was dumbfounded.

Again, I had imagined myself an annoyance, a fledgling manager flailing to stay afloat in a sinking ship of a property and constantly screaming for help as I slowly drown. Mind you, the Regional had done nothing to give me that impression. She had the patience of a saint and we share a very dry, sarcastic sense of humor, but the imaginary manifestation of my imposter syndrome taking on the face of R. Lee Ermey that constantly screams at me what a worthless piece of shit I am from the back of my mind wouldn't allow me to believe I was actually a desirable candidate. It's worth mentioning that, in the forefront of my mind, I know I'm good at what I do and I know what I'm worth, hence the recent leaps across properties and companies to find a role where I'm seen for that value. But, as with any workaholic with imposter syndrome, there's still that drill instructor shouting obscenities from my subconscious.

So, I manage to choke out "well, that's a...conversation. What would that one pay?" This elicited a smile from the Regional and a prompt "we'll talk." About five minutes later my watch vibrates and I see an iMessage bubble with a dollar amount and my world spins. Thousands of thoughts, questions, possibilities, and scenarios rush through my mind all at once. My boss is going to be pissed if I take this, but the pay is well over what I was making as a rover. Ok, step one, look at the property. Lunch arrives via delivery driver and, while we're all chowing down, I am quietly perusing the website of the property thinking oh, okay with each picture I see and each floor plan I look at. I see there are 7 units available, not terrible. I see the rents are...average for the area (the PNW is expensive). I could work with this! Damn. I had hoped I'd hate it and easily say no, but the more I see of the property and the more times I re-read the number the Regional had texted me to make sure I wasn't mistaken, the more tempted I am.

As we are wrapping up lunch and preparing to leave, the entire room launches into what seemed to be a coordinated effort with Nicole, easily my favorite person on this team of managers, leading the charge to recruit me as a permanent manager in their portfolio. All the while I'm shaking my head and trying to play it cool while my natural instinct to take the opportunity (which hasn't lead me astray, yet, in six years) is doing battle with R. Lee Ermey in my head.

One phone call to my boss later, wherein I received a heartwarming amount of support and encouragement amidst obvious disappointment, and I accepted the permanent position. As I write this, I'm a month in at my permanent property with a salary that gives me financial peace of mind and the ability so somewhat make my own schedule, within reason and a self-imposed need for approval from my Regional, and a regular, predictable drive home. No more random assignments, no more cleaning up messes only to move on to another mess as soon as I'm finished, and I find myself finally feeling the tickle of an urge to write again.

Thus, after a three-year long silence, it is with great pleasure that I shout into the ether of the internet that "I'm back!" Though the shout may not reach any ears, one day I will look back at this blog, just as I look back now at the post from three years ago, and I'll smile in remembrance of the opportunity I was fortunate enough to get that allowed me the time, energy, and freedom to break the long silence.