the hazards of becoming a professional.

{sitting poolside at the Boca Resort, the calm before the storm}

Last week, as I lounged poolside in Boca Raton, I had these eerie flashbacks to where I was one year ago: Austin, Texas at the HOW Design Conference. Completely outside of my element and all alone, a year into the place we call the real world.

It was a test of my new young professional status, and I think I passed okay.

Now, here I am, exactly one year later (to the date), chronicling another business trip, this time in a completely different position at a complete different workplace. It's so funny to see how my life has changed,  how God has worked and moved in me these past 12 months.

And yet... I am still me.

And everyone knows I can't go anywhere without something happening.

In this case, that something happened to be a car that wouldn't start.

I had ignored my parents' warnings and last week, right before my departure date, I had let my gasoline supply reduce to below a quarter of a tank. Then I'd left my car parked on an incline for three days while I drank $9 milkshakes at Serendipity.

So at 10:30 Friday night, when everyone should have been headed back to their homes after a long, seven-hour drive from sunny South Florida, I was recruiting a coworker to go get me a gas can filled with gasoline.

Someone happily obliged, and my car was up and running in no time.

If this were anyone else, the story would end right now.

Hah.

As I cautiously backed out of my boss's curvy driveway, I noticed my windows were foggy, making it impossible to see (especially for someone who honestly can't drive in reverse to save her life).

Which is probably why in the next moment, I hit something. Hard.

I said something I shouldn't have said and pulled my car back into drive.

Let's try this again.

And I hit it (whatever it was) again.

And then I made one last successful attempt and drove a way in a fit of tears and fury.

Of course, in my tears and fury, I proceeded to drive the opposite direction of home, all the way to the Georgia state line.

(Humiliating? Yes. Par for the course? Absolutely.)

When I finally arrived home at 12:30, my car was still -- perhaps miraculously -- intact, and I had a nearly full tank of gas. I was exhausted, but I knew: I had to go back. I had to see what exactly I had hit at my boss's house. In this case, ignorance was not bliss. Ignorance would have meant a night of worry and tears over my obvious stupidity.

While the rest of Tallahassee slept soundly in their beds, my very patient and understanding husband hauled me back to town, where we basically pulled a James Bond and quietly drove by my boss's house over and over again, examining the damage.

We saw exactly what I thought we'd see.

My boss's utility box, completely torn to shreds.

My husband was in complete awe of my handiwork.

Guess who didn't have telephone or cable service all day Saturday?

My boss.

And guess whose fault it was?

Ah, yes. The joys of being a quirky young professional.

Clearly I'm still experiencing some growing pains.