Jack (nee "Dyke") Heald:
CLASS OF 1978
Sooner High SchoolClass of 1978
Bartlesville, OK
Baylor University - MusicClass of 1982
Waco, TX
Jack (nee "Dyke")'s Story
Life?
What a gig, huh? Mine hasn't turned out REMOTELY like I planned. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say "hoped", since "planning" wasn't exactly one of my strong suits.
Planning. <sigh> As much as I sucked at planning, how did I ever end up as a Project Manager? I have no friggin' clue. There I was, minding my own business, doing something I enjoyed, (but didn't necessarily love - coding), and my boss - whom I greatly admired - suggested I take the role of Project Manager. It sounded like it involved more authority and more money - both concepts that appealed to me. So like an idiot I said yes.
Eleven years and about a zillion airline miles later, I called it quits. I had gone from doing something I enjoyed for some money to something I hated for a lot more money.
Between my nut-job an ex-wife, a master manipulator for a boss, and my high-stress/low satisfaction job, I just about destroyed my own health. Thank God I got out before I completely cratered; got out of the marriage, got out of the job
I was actually closer to cratering than I knew - apparently most people with my physical condition - adrenal failure - only get diagnosed on the autopsy table!
Four years out from the ...Expand for more
divorce and two years away from the job and I am almost back to my old self. Not running any marathons any time soon, but it sure feels good to feel good again.
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Flying used to be fun, but Homeland Security made it miserable. So glad I don't deal with those morons anymore.
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Being a dad is my all-time favorite gig, but being a step-dad is a ton harder. A ton.
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Second marriages fail more often than first marriages because once you've been through one lousy marriage and survived the divorce, you are less willing to endure another lousy marriage.
Although I can't imagine how bad the marriage would have to be to willingly endure another divorce.
I got lucky, though. My second marriage is a bazillion times better than my first. And I may be underestimating the "betterment multiple" at that.
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My son has a son. How weird is that?
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The longer I live and the more places I visit, the more convinced I am that I was blessed to grow up in an extraordinary community with extraordinary people. I am sorry I drifted so far away from that community and those people. I think that I will be searching for a "Bartlesville" experience of community for the rest of my life.
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