Personal Narrative: A Career In The State Department

The dusty debris clouded my feet as I moved through the ruins of the neighborhood. The pungent smell of the blood overwhelmed my nostrils, and my eyes watered partly from the effect of the dust and primarily from the overwhelming sadness and fury that warred inside of me. The once polished commercial buildings were wrecked; broken windows, crumbled pieces of the wall, and gang graffiti served as evidence of the disaster that struck this neighborhood. Silence ran throughout the area, and no human presence could be detected. The evening sunlight projected a red tint over the wreckage, like spatters of blood, and indicated the upcoming arrival of the rebels; who carried out their attacks predominately during the night. The rebels, the ones who …show more content…
As I slowly worked to get myself into the State Department, where I hoped to jumpstart my career, I went through the vigorous process of written and oral exams. During the months where I was on the waiting list for employment, I felt useless. Never had I been more frustrated as I lingered at home, my Ogygia during this time; while my goal of being a United States Ambassador was so far away. I could do nothing but hopelessly wait for that one call that confirmed my job in the State Department. One day, I received a call at 5 in the morning. While it was brutal to get myself out of bed to reach for my phone, and it was hard to restrain myself from yelling down the phone to whoever woke me up at this unholy hour, I still managed to do so. The moment the calm, polished voice at the other end told me the news that I’ve been hired, it was like sipping the first cup of coffee at noon; adrenaline flowed through my body and my spirit …show more content…
However, love seemed to always find its way. It was not long until I married a man I loved dearly. Though, the career that I chose was not meant for a woman in love. A few years after my marriage, I was assigned to go to the embassy in Iran. My main duty was to get a handle on the rebels that threatened to start a nuclear war. Additionally, I was commanded to transport the American residents away from the war-inflicted country. My husband was adamant about not letting me go, but little did he know I was more stubborn than him. We had argued for days about my assignment in Iran. He made several attempts to intervene my trip to Iran, and pleaded with me to stay at home instead. I understood his concerns for me, but I couldn’t help but feel as if he was my Calypso. Finally, I put my foot down and told him that I wasn’t going to neglect my duties to this country. My husband knew from the look in my eyes that it was no longer up for discussion. He begrudgingly respected my decision, and I soon flew over to