I had put off declining the statistical analyst position in favor of the actuary position for two days and called in this morning to formally statement my non-acceptance. They upped their offer and I felt like I was breaking up with someone but didn’t quite go so far as to say “it’s not you, it’s me.” I felt like I was about to throw up but eventually one must choose.

I made a cheesecake, did some push-ups, and headed into Philadelphia to pick up my race bib for the Rock ‘n’ Roll half-marathon this Sunday. I nodded off on the way in, quickly grabbed my number, and after lunch, returned home. On the way, I ran into an old Scout friend and we chatted on the ride home.

After getting off the train, a woman stood there looking lost and she asked for directions to a bus stop. I asked where she was going, indicated Forest Hills Station and I offered to drop her off there. She got in and we spoke. She was a statistician for a testing firm who was uncomfortable with the direction her career had taken. She expressed regret about having never become an actuary and I mentioned that I’d just been hired as one. I asked her what she wanted to do and she said statistical work for a pharmaceuticals company. I smiled and passed her the business cards for the people I had declined the job offer from and said “You have a background in data mining and know SAS, these people might have an opening.”

Some would attribute it to fate but I find this series of events much more magical as a straight coincidence. The idea that in accidents we find ways to go do good is far more satisfying to me than to think of this as a contrived way that some power came up with to test me.

I don’t know your name, you don’t know mine, but I hope you get the job, lady.