Dear Mr. VP,
Finally, I can tell you this story.
A few weeks ago, I went to Boston for a job interview. I took the commuter rail into South Station. I grabbed a coffee, intending to sit and read until I needed to walk over the the office where the interview was being held.
Clutching my coffee, I walked past a woman leaning against the lottery ticket machine. My step hitched for a second. I looked again. “Holy shit,” I actually muttered out loud to myself.
It was Elizabeth Warren.
I made it to a table and stood there, a death grip on my coffee. I considered approaching her but decided not to. But then her train was announced and she walked right past me.
“Thank you for all that you do, Senator,” I managed to squeak out.
She looked at me and said, “Thank you. We’re going to do this.”
It was the first moment I’d had hope. In months. That we’ll fight and win.
I went to my interview. On Thursday, I accepted the job and spent the day trying to figure out how I was going to move my kid and I across a state in a week so I could get him started in kindergarten on time. On Friday, I worked every network I have to find viable apartments. On Saturday, I found an apartment and signed a lease. Sunday, I packed half a house. Today, I parsed through school registration, started electric service, gave my notice, dealt with the emotional fallout from other life things also happening concurrently, sobbed as I wrote an emotional goodbye to the valley where I’ve lived for sixteen years, drove 3.5 hours round trip to drop off a birth certificate to prove to our new town that my kid is 5, went to therapy, got a haircut, and worked a first and a second job.
I don’t know who you think you’re dealing with, but let me tell you. We’re not quitters. We’re a whole bunch of people who can stare adversity in the face and take it on.
We’re going to do this.