My Year on the Run
How failure and Vrbo changed my attitude about life
In the Spring of 2015, I took what I thought was my dream job in Washington D.C. The nonprofit that hired me was small but seemed impactful in the global health community, so I was excited. Having lived my entire life in Texas, this was my chance to move to the exciting capital of the country and be a northeasterner, a moniker that sounded so exotic. I would ride subways and walk to restaurants and bars, never having any need for a car. This concept was totally foreign to a Texas gal. Being nomadic by nature, I was thrilled when I packed a pod and my tiny Mini and headed north.
The first two months were a whirlwind. I spent most of my time traveling, first to Bangladesh, then Nepal, and finally wrapping it all up in Bali at a luxury resort for an international meeting. I was learning the ins and outs of the project, meeting my partners, and spending time in-country collaborating on future plans. It felt great to spread my wings and offer my “particular set of skills” in this new position.
Then it all fell apart…I had learned fairly quickly that my boss was, at best, completely incompetent, at worst, a complete psychopath. He never committed to anything. I would work for days on a proposal or a data collection plan only to have him dismiss it outright or never even review it…
