Random Musings When it Amuses Me

We’re moving.

I’ve been holding off posting anything blog-wise about this news for fear that there might be a chance that someone I don’t know about could be maybe following this blog, and that sharing this news could have negative repercussions.  Specifically, career-wise.  Because I haven’t told my work  yet.  And won’t for another week or so.

Thing is, I need an outlet.  I need to talk about this and share it with friends (and complete strangers) or else I might just go batshit crazy.

So, at the risk of this biting me in the ass later, I’m just going to put it out there.

We’re MOVING!!

To Colorado.

Denver, specifically.

Well, somewhere in the Denver area.

The hubs and I have been itching to leave the DC area, which we’ve both respectively called “home” for 7 years now.  We’re getting to that age and place in our lives when we’re wanting to start a family, and in our a-type, planner personalities, that one, big question snowballed into lots of little questions creating quite the blizzard.  When all was said and done, neither of us wanted to raise our family here; so, if not here, then where?

Thankfully, my husband was able to approach this idea pretty openly with his employer – which happens to be the Federal Government.  His agency happens to have an office outside of Denver.  Because of this, in the back of our minds, we thought that Colorado might be an option for us.  An intriguing option for me, in particular, as I grew up next door to Colorado, just north in Wyoming.  While I never would have admitted it 7 years ago, I love the idea of returning to the Rocky Mountains.  I really do miss nature and believe it or not, “small town folk”.  While they may be conservative, they look out for each other.  That’s something that I’ve missed living out here on the East coast.  Plus the cost of living is half of what it is here in DC, and our hard earned dollar will stretch a lot farther out there.

So, the hubs pretty much laid it out explaining to the higher ups at his agency that we were wanting to relocate, we were investigating our options, and would Colorado be a possibility.  Lucky for us, it is.  His position is being transferred, and it looks like our last day in Maryland will be October 31. And they’re picking up the moving tab (whew).

But I didn’t really want to get into the details of how/why/when/where we’re moving.  I wanted to get into the fact that now that it’s happening, I am scared out of my mind.

I’m also super excited.  VERY excited.  And definitely happy with this decision.  Not regretful.  But I’m going to be leaving my job, which is fine and good, but what I’m going to do next…I just don’t know.  We want to start a family, but we’re just not sure how long it will take us to get settled in and get on the baby band wagon, and in the meantime, as we figure that out, just WHAT am I going  to do with myself.  You see, the luxury about this move is that I won’t HAVE to work.  A concept that’s completely foreign to me.  We won’t be rolling around naked in money a la Donald Trump, no, but we’ll still be able to live comfortably without my salary.  So, with that safety net, just WHAT should I do?

I’ve thought about working in a cupcake shop.  Or Starbucks.

But then I pay my student loan bill and question whether I could really feel good about myself if I did that.

And that feeling raised new questions for me.  I’ve always identified myself as what I DO, not who I AM.  I have a pretty firm grasp on my personal identity, and maybe this is just the impact DC has had on me, but I’m having a really difficult time now trying to identify myself without occupation.  Or with occupation, but just not the occupation that is expected of me.  It’s like, once you remove “work” from the equation, something doesn’t add up.

Isn’t that odd?

In my nearly 30 years of life, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way.  It’s liberating and terrifying and I’m worried that I’m spending way too much time focusing on it.  Am I letting all those women down who worked so had for me to have all that I have?  Or is it because of those very women that I’m in this position where I have a CHOICE?  Not since graduating High School have I had this kind of feeling of hope and anxiety all mixed up together.  And as we figure out and coordinate this big move (both physical and emotional), I suddenly find myself clinging to my “work”.  At the same time, I equally loathe going to the office every day.  Doesn’t seem possible, right?  I’m a crazy lady, right?

Maybe.

Change – as invigorating as it is – can be scary.

Last night, like millions of other Americans, I watched Barack Obama accept the Democratic nomination to become the first black President of the United States.

Change we can believe in, indeed.

On the anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have A Dream” speech that fateful day in Washington 45 years earlier, I couldn’t help but agree with everyone who was saying that Dr. King’s dream took a giant step forward last night.  I was proud to be a part of it.  I was inspired to do more.  It’s a feeling of political inspiration that I don’t think my generation has truly ever experienced before.

I felt so scorned and betrayed by my country the day that Al Gore admitted defeat to George Bush in the 2000 election.  And for the past 8 years, that thief who stole the White House has continued to pick the pockets of hard working Americans every day.  No more.  Enough.  Something has to change.

A lot has happened in my life over the 8 years that Bush has been in office.  Upon graduating from college in 2001, I moved to Washington, DC.  I was here for only two weeks when the tragedy struck us on September 11.  I remember seeing the smoke from the Pentagon.  I remember walking from my apartment to my brother’s house on Capitol Hill and passing marines in gas masks.  I remember the letters laced with Anthrax that were mailed to the very building where my brother worked.  I remember him taking the precautionary antibiotics to keep him from infection – just in case.  But we’ve still not captured Osama Bin Laden.  We, instead, invaded and occupied a country that we have no business being in.  Working down the street from Walter Reed, everyday, I see our soldiers return with missing limbs, after their third or fourth tour in Iraq.  And what for?  What, can you tell me, has really changed, making this a fight worth fighting for?  I often sigh of relief that my husband is now too old for a draft.  I fear that day may not be far away.  Something has to change.

Speaking of my husband.  Over the past 8 years, I found the love of my life.  We pursued the American dream by getting married.  With hopes of starting a family, we bought a house that we cannot really afford that has now lost value over the past two years since purchasing it.  We see neighbors move out in the middle of the night facing foreclosure.  We see our paychecks go a little less farther each month as gas prices, and food prices, and day-to-day living expenses increase.  We delay our dream of starting a family, worried that this might not be the world we should bring children into.  Something has to change.

Change is palpable, though.  Isn’t it.  As the summer out here begins to wane and the leaves on the trees begin to take on the faintness of fall colors, I can smell the change in the air.  I think that feeling can be frightening to some people because there’s uncertainty that goes with it.  Not all change is always good.

But I believe in Barack Obama.  He truly is change that I can believe in.  And the time is now.  I am ready for change.  I am ready for our generation to finally stand the fuck up and say something.  Complacency – the complacency that so many of us have felt over the last 8 years – is deadly.  We can not afford it.  I cannot afford it.  Take a look at your life and see if you are really where you thought you would be 8 years ago and see if you think you can afford another 4 years of the same.  John McCain is old.  He is out of touch.  And he does not represent MY America.  He DOES NOT represent change, but rather, deadly complacency.  And if you’re one of those people who are still pissed off about Hillary, can  you honestly look at the alternative and vote for him from a place that isn’t spiteful?  Can you truly get behind his policies?

For me, this election feels very personal.  I have never contributed a dollar to any election, but I just made a contribution to Obama’s campaign.  And no, we can’t really afford it, but we also can’t afford another 4 years without change.  And if you can’t, either, then do what you can.  Make a contribution, or volunteer, or just talk about your own experience.  Talk about why this election is important.  Because the thing is, politics and this election in particular- is personal.  And though I’m sure that Washington, DC feels like a place that’s far away and removed from most of you, it really isn’t.  What happens here has an impact.  But this is YOUR opportunity to have an impact on what happens here.

Vote.  Voice yourself.  Stand for change.

I think I’m one of the rare people who can say they were hit by a bus and lived to tell the tale…

Last night, on my way home from dinner with a friend, I was stopped at an intersection while heading north on a major thoroughfare in my area.  I got the green light to go.  Entered the intersection.  And slammed my brakes on half-way through in enough time to stop and see a county bus swipe the front of my car with its right side.

I was pretty scared.

I pulled over at the side of the road.  The bus had made its turn and was a good hundred feet down the road.  I don’t think he saw me.  I have a feeling that a passenger may have told him, “dude, you just hit someone”.

Since the bus had stopped so far away and there was a major intersection seperating us, I wasn’t sure how I was going to get the information I knew I would need for the insurance claim.  There wasn’t a great deal of damage to my car, but certainly enough to make it worth my while.  Fortunately, I flagged a County police officer down, who pulled around and safely blocked off my car.  He began taking my statement when the bus driver came over and began to accuse me of jumping the light.  Yeah, right.  Like I want to RUN INTO A BUS!  The cop stepped in and he backed down, and the officer found (rightfully so) the bus driver at fault.

So, now the bureaucratic hullabaloo has to begin.  I have to fail a claim with the County.  They get a third party adjuster involved.  I can see that this is not going to be easy.  I need to get my hands on the copy of the police report.  I also need to get to a doctor because my back, neck and shoulders are achy and getting worse as the day goes on.  I need to get checked out.

What I keep going back to about this whole thing was the timing.  If I’d been a second sooner, or if he was a second later, it would have been a direct impact on the driver’s side of my car and I’d probably be toast.  Or at least in pretty bad shape.

Time is an amazing thing, isn’t it – the instant perfection or distruction, depending on the situation…

I don’t mean for every post as of late to be negative.  I’m in a confusing place in my life right now and writing and sharing it – with the world, I suppose – makes me feel a bit better.  Strange therapy, I know, but getting it out there is good.

I’m feeling stuck.  It’s like being stuck on a roller coaster during the ascend.  You have this wild and crazy, exciting ride in front of you.  You don’t know exactly what it’s going to feel like – all the twists and turns and corkscrews, but you know that it’s better than that anxious climb up hill.  And then you stop.  And it won’t move.  And you have all this fun to look forward to but it just isn’t happening.  And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

That’s how I feel.

Those twists and turns I’m longing for include, in no specific order, moving out of the DC area; starting a family; reconnecting with my true self.  The abrupt stopping of the forward momentum I need to plunge myself forward is caused by the job market, i.e., Scott needs and wants to secure a job before we can move, and once said job is secured, we have to sell our house.  In this economy, both maneuvers are tricky.

These issues combined with other feelings I’m experiencing, make the whole situation all the more frustrating.  I love my job, but I’m burnt out, and there is a lot about my job that I don’t love.  I work, on average, 50-60 hours a week.  I get to spend just one day a week with my husband; who I barely see anymore.  When I’m not actually working, I’m on-call, and often interruptions to my personal life occur.  A phone call here, a conference call there, an e-mail or ten later and free time has evaporated to another work day.  There’s not a lot of “me time”, and more importantly to me, there’s not a lot of “us time” with the hubs.  This has been the most difficult part of this job, and an area that has me feeling regretful of the circumstances.

I’ve always liked to think of myself as a free spirit.  Growing up in Wyoming, I feel an intense connection to nature and my community.  I’ve lived in the DC area for about 7 years now.  When I first moved here I loved the urban vibe and being so close to the center of politics; a subject I’ve always been interested in.  There’s a thriving arts community here.  But the overinflated ego of the metro area has become too much to bear.  The sprawl and crawl of the population density make a man-made lake the only peaceful refuge easily accessible, but it’s hard to connect with the sound of cars whizzing by.  I miss clean air.  I miss being able to see for miles in any direction.  I miss the slower pace of life.  And I cannot raise children with the people that live here.  The inflated sense of ego and entitlement is flabbergasting.  I don’t share those values and while I know that I can still raise a family without adopting that lifestyle, I also feel that I’m in the minority here when it comes to this type-a driven area, and I’d rather be a smaller fish in a smaller pond before I spawn.  (nice image, huh?)

So, like fishing in a big lake, we’ve thrown some bait out there in hopes that we’ll reel something in that will set this coaster in motion.  But it’s always the waiting that’s maddening.  I cried on my English Muffin this morning.  Something has to give soon…if we could just pick up some speed…

My niece – a bouncing 9 lb baby girl – was born this morning!  Name is still to be announced…Mom and Dad are doing fine.  Mom is especially enjoying the morphine. 

I am an anxious bundle of sleepy nerves this morning as I await to hear of the arrival of my niece who was to be delivered by C-section this morning at 7:30 am.  I’m very much looking forward to meeting her and hearing that Mom and Dad are doing well…more to come soon!!

I knew that something was up with me when the other night one of my employees came to me after her shift and said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you seem really sad.  Is everything okay?”

I was caught off guard – I hadn’t really noticed that I wasn’t feeling myself, which when you de-construct that statement, makes no sense at all.  In that moment, I played it off as, “oh, I’m just tired.” but on my way home that night I was hung up on the moment and realized that yeah, I’m feeling a little down lately.

And I don’t know why!

What’s the deal with that!?

I’m not overly emotional, or suicidal or anything like that, so please don’t be concerned.  But I am feeling a bit of a funk.  I’ve been sleeping a lot and have felt overly tired.  I haven’t had a lot of energy lately.  My appetite is actually out of control – so, is this emotional eating?  But it’s not constant…I had a lovely afternoon and evening with my husband yesterday and felt great.  But after sleeping nearly 10 hours last night and getting up this morning, I’m just not the complete version of myself.

So, I’m thinking that this really is a reflection of what I felt at my yoga class.  That I am experience this sense of lacking balance – both physically and mentally.  But once balance is gone, it’s tough to get it back.  What’s the deal with that?!

I’ve found another yoga class.

Yeah, I know.  “So what.”  But it’s been probably a good two years – maybe more – since I was really into my yoga practice and the return to the mat tonight was wonderful.  And it came back to me like riding a bike.

While I was engaged and preparing and planning my wedding, I attended a weekly yoga class at a studio that I adored.  The studio was on my walk home from work, back when I lived in the city, and was a peaceful retreat from the workday, wedding stress, and life in general.  I attended class with a close friend and former co-worker, and our lighthearted banter en route to class gave way to quiet support during class.  I didn’t really know anyone at the studio and never really became close to the instructor, but it still felt a bit like a community.  I’ve missed that lately.

This new yoga class I’ve discovered is actually at the community center where I live.  Though we moved out to the burbs nearly two years ago, we haven’t really gotten to know any of our neighbors and pretty much keep to ourselves.  I was pleasantly surprised to see that some of my fellow yogis were a lot like me.  And even happier to find another teacher that I liked.  And for being away from my practice for such a long time, I was quite pleased that I was able to fall right back into the flow of things again.  For the most part, I’ve maintained my flexibility.  My strength could be improved, but my balance was way off.  I fear that’s indicative of a greater problem…

Things are a bit crazy at work lately.  Lots of changes and disappointments – mostly in colleagues who I was fond of, but have learned better – have left me a bit overly focused on work lately.  I have trouble sleeping sometimes.  I go in early and stay late and work through lunch.  I lack balance.

So, for week 1 of my newly found yogina lifestyle I have set my intention on something very specific.

Reclaim your balance.

This is a theme with me, it seems. I have started multiple blogs, and eventually they all become stagnant. I lose interest. I think part of it is that I become to concerned about “theme”. I had one blog where I was trying to review something every day. I don’t think that I ever really succeeded at reviewing something on a daily basis. I had the best intentions, though.

So, I’m trying again – mostly because I like to write, and I feel like it gives me a nice creative release and keeps me in touch with myself, something that as I get older I’m discovering can become more difficult than I ever really thought. So, I’m blogging – for myself this time – with no real goal or motive other than to do it when I have the time and the inspiration, and maybe some folks will find what I have to say somewhat interesting. I also wanted to give myself a little bit of anonymity. Let’s keep this between us bloggers, shall we? After all, isn’t there some kind of code?

Anyway, if what I write strikes a fancy with you, let me know. Maybe I have a career as a reclusive writer in front of me (it sounds blissful, I do have to admit). If you don’t, well, piss off. It’s not meant for your anyway.