The message was hidden so well, I may never be sure it was ever actually there.

I started a new job through a temp agency last November. I spend most of my shift sitting. This is in stark contrast to virtually any job I’ve ever had in my life. And there have been plenty.

My schedule at this job is consistent, as well. It was surprisingly difficult for me to get used to that. I had no idea how conditioned I was to hectic, inconsistent work environments until I started at Gater.

I come to work every day at the same time. I sit in the same chair and do the same thing. I listen to music. I’m rarely bothered by anyone, although I am sometimes asked how my day is going.

I feel respected and valued at this company. And I was terribly unprepared for how it would make me feel. It made me so uncomfortable in fact, that I started to wonder if I would be able to work the job long term.

Consistentcy, value, and respect? For me?

Thankfully, this was when life decided to heap a bit of chaos into my personal life. Topped with a dash of strangeness and perspective.

It was my first day as a full-time employee. I was awakened at 12:31 in the morning by the smell of smoke. It wasn’t heavy, but it was distinct. I walked around my apartment for a few minutes to see if I could find the source.

I was just approaching the front door when I heard yelling. Then I heard someone pounding on the neighbor’s door downstairs. I opened my door, taken aback by the thick smoke in our shared entryway.

In the span of a few seconds, everything became chaos. People were running and screaming. One of my other neighbor’s was arguing with 911 dispatch. I heard coughing, crying, and dogs barking.

Oddly, I was calm. I looked around my apartment, deciding what to take in the event everything burned to the ground. What was the most important? Out of everything I had here, what could I least afford to lose?

In the end, I walked out with a set of clothes, my car keys, and my cat. My car wasn’t starting at the time, but I needed a safe place for her. Thankfully, my mom answered the phone when I called. At least I didn’t have to stand out in the cold.

After a couple of hours, after the chaos of screams and sirens, we were allowed to go back inside. I didn’t want to miss my first real shift at my new job, so I gathered what I needed for work in the morning. By then it was around 2:30 in the morning. I called Kim and explained the situation. And with the patience and compassion that she has consistently shown me throughout our entire relationship, she gave me refuge.

I found out later that my neighbor had passed out drunk in his apartment with the stove on.

Now here’s where the strangeness comes in.

I’m sitting at my desk, four minutes into my shift. I hear one of my coworkers start a conversation with the person at the table next to him.

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time my stepson passed out drunk in the basement and started the house on fire?”

Some people would call this a coincidence. Others would say there are no coincidences. If I’m being honest, I’m still not sure which group I fall under. I definitely think this is a strange way to start a conversation. Nevermind the fact that my neighbor had just started a fire in the basement apartment 7 hours earlier.

As I write this, it’s been 5 months. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the timing of it all. Part of me wonders if there’s even anything there for me to wrap my mind around. Or what it could all mean.

Lucky for me, this wouldn’t be the only time I got a message from the sky.