Still Swirling

The whirlwind is still blowing.

Sometimes I've wondered - do I write more when I'm happy or when I'm sad? I think I definitely have tended to write/journal more during the sad times of my life. Interestingly enough, there have been times when I thought I was happy and wrote a lot, but looking back, those were actually bad times for me. So I think the answer is that I write more during the bad times.

So my lack of posting could actually be seen as a good thing.

To catch you up on where I've been ... the weekend before Halloween I went to Wyoming with my friends Susan and Julie. It was a great trip. All we did was eat, sleep and sit. But the sitting was on the airplane and in the car - we traveled a lot. Managed to get to Yellowstone, a first for me. I'm really glad we went in October and avoided the crowds.

So we had a great trip, but on our return, I got some bad news. My friend Susie (not to be confused with Susan) called to say that her ex-husband and children had been in a car accident. Her ex and son were fine, but her daughter was in intensive care with a head injury. As soon as I landed I went to the hospital. They had her in a medically induced coma and it was shocking to see her.

I actually hadn't seen her in a few years, and she is now 14 years old and a freshman in high school. She's not a little girl any more - she's a young woman. And there she was with all of her hair shaved off and she was swollen from the fluids they were pumping into her and she had all of these tubes ... and she was there for 16 days. Late last week they moved her to a rehabilitation hospital. I don't actually know the exact diagnosis/prognosis. She's in there, she's out of the coma now and she seems to comprehend what Susie says to her, but she can't seem to make her body work anymore.

She's learning how to sit ... how to hold her head ... how to swallow ... how to walk ... how to even reach up and scratch an itch. She has to start all over. Susie has been visiting her every day, and she's just exhausted. I have offered to do whatever she needs me to do - cook, clean, do laundry, run errands, whatever. So far, I haven't been able to do anything but offer.

I don't have children, but Susie's kids are special to me. We were neighbors when they were born (they are twins, a boy and a girl) and the only time I stopped taking my weekly yoga class was when I babysat the twins for Susie when she was taking a class. Susie was so calm and collected when she called me with the news, and I held my composure until she said "I wanted you to know because in a way they are your babies too." That's when I lost it.

And yet, I'm sure I can't even begin to experience the depth of emotions that Susie must be feeling. To have your child, a piece of you, go through this suffering and not be able to do anything about it. It's just a waiting game. This little girl will recover, eventually, but it will take a long time.

So every day I check the web site where Susie journals her daughter's progress, and I think of her, and I pray that she's able to make a full recovery. I'm trying to think positively and count my blessings, but it's going to be hard to be thankful this year when someone I care about is in pain.

22 Days Later ...

... I get around to responding to Sue's tag.

I'm supposed to reveal seven random facts or habits about me.

1) I pace when I brush my teeth.
2) Yeah, I admit it - I pick my nose.
3) I was once arrested for unauthorized use of a motor vehicle.
4) Lately I've gotten in the habit of only drinking half of my morning cup of General Foods International Coffee (French Vanilla, of course). I put the other half in the fridge and have iced coffee as soon as I get home at the end of the day. I don't know why.
5) I've got a pile problem. And it's growing
6) I won't know unless I pull a Britney, but I suspect that if I were to shave my head I would have a very shapely noggin.
7) I daydream about hitting the lottery.

Had a lovely evening. Met up with Denise and Amy for dinner and then we strolled around the park chatting for a while longer. Bumped into the local newspaper photographer and since we all knew him, no introductions were necessary. Now I know I've been living here a long time when I know the local news photographer and all my friends do as well.

Was at my final pilates class in the park (a different, bigger park) the other night and there was a concert going on. We asked some of the kids who was playing and when they told us Fall Out Boy and Paul Wall we said, huh? Then one of the guys said, "Sorry, Neil Diamond and James Taylor are more your speed." Why yes, yes they are.

It's official. I'm no longer young and hip.

Notice that I didn't say I'm old, because I'm not. I'm just not as young as I used to be.

Was walking to work yesterday and bumped into an old acquaintance who just happens to be celebrating her 25th college reunion this weekend. I told her that I was floundering, professionally. She looked at me and said, "Yeah, you're right about that age."

It hit me - it's not just me! I'm not the only one going through this "is this all there is? Shouldn't my life have more meaning?" phase. It still sucks, but at least I was reminded that I'm not the only one singled out for this misery. Welcome to my world.

More later. Or some other time. Whenever.

What Are You Afraid Of?

Okay, so maybe reading The Secret (or at least skimming it) will lead me to a breakthrough after all. Or not.

I continue to ponder my role in this world. I haven't found my place in the workforce yet, and I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I know, "Join the club," you say. We're all trying to find that magical blend of challenging, meaningful and financially rewarding work.

But I think about it. A lot. And I'm still hedging when asked the question, "If you could do anything, what would it be?"

My first response is nothing. The only reason I work is to make money. If that weren't an issue, I would not work. Period. Of course let's talk about your definition of "work." It's not work if you love what you are doing, right?

So what do I want to be? And why am I afraid to admit it - to myself and others?

I was pressed on that question last night, and I finally said "I want to be a writer."

There. Was that so hard?

"Then why don't you do it? I've read some of the things you've written - you are a good writer."

And that's where I started with the excuses. I'm used to earning a living wage; I'm afraid that I couldn't earn enough to maintain my lifestyle. Of course that's a copout. What is really behind that excuse is this - I'm afraid that no one will care what I have to say. Or worse - that my writing will be criticized.

And so I’ve allowed this fear to keep me from doing what I want to do. I have ideas for stories, novels. But I’ve never totally fleshed them out. I’ve never put together that finished piece and tried to do something with it. In some ways, this blog is my book. You know the adage that if you want to write, you should write every day. That’s what I do here. Sometimes more often than others. Sometimes more eloquently than others.

I think I’ve run out of excuses. If writing is my passion (and it’s just about the only thing that I’ve ever even considered attaching that label to) then I need to do it. I need to put together a finished product and go with it. It doesn’t even necessarily need to be a book. I could start out small with an article or a short story.

Maybe I’ll get paid to write, and maybe it’s just an outlet for me. Maybe I’ll never earn more than the $150 I made two years again when I wrote those silly society columns for the local newspaper.

Or I could just end this sentence and hit the “publish” button.

Le Interview

I went on a job interview today.

I know, I know ... I've only been at my current job since Memorial Day. And the job before that only lasted 5 months. Believe me, I am not a job hopper. I want to be in a job where I am happy to stay for years on end. And since I don't feel that way about my current position, I'm looking.

It's hard to say how the interview went. It was unlike any interview I have ever been on. Of course, every job and job interview I've had previously was for a company that had 1,200 or fewer employees. This company? A Fortune 100 corporation. A national retail chain with over 250,000 employees. And yet ... the care and consideration that went into this job interview was unbelievable. I was made to feel that this hiring decision was one of the most important decisions that would be made.

I think it went well, but you never know. One thing it did do for me is cause me to give even further thought to what I want to do and where I want to go, professionally. I haven't spent enough time thinking about that, and to be honest, I'm not sure why. It's like I have this mental block. Like I can't come right out and say what I want to do with my life because deep down I don't think I deserve to have what I want. Does that make sense?

I have my own little inferiority complex when it comes to life. But it's like someone who smokes or who is overweight - you know it's not good for you, but for the life of you, you can't seem to change things. I know that I haven't taken responsibility for my own life. Trust me, this is a really hard thing to admit ... I'm crying as I type. I walk around with a chip on my shoulder, always feeling like somehow I got dealt a crappy hand and there is nothing I can do about it. Always wondering why other people, who I know aren't as smart and talented and creative as I am, seem to be having more success (note that most of the time, the correlation here is paycheck) than I am.

Anyway. That's what I'm thinking.

Reaching Out

I just got home from work about 20 minutes ago. No, I did not work overtime; I just met a friend (if I didn't consider her a friend before, I do now) who wanted to talk about job opportunities. This is an acquaintace of mine through my woman's group, someone whom I've never gotten to know on a personal level. All that changed over a cappucino (for her) and a raspberry liqueur infused hot chocolate (for me).

Her request was simple enough - could she pick my brain about one of my former employers? Having gone through (and still in the process of going through) a job transition myself, I was happy to take the time. As it turns out, we have a lot in common and we ended up talking about work, health, family - you name it.

I actually left our meeting feeling energized and uplifted. I needed to reach out to someone, to stretch myself beyond the bounds of my everyday life. I complain about not having enough time to do things, but that isn't true. I've been drawing into my shell, and it's time I poked my head out. There are a lot of wonderful opportunities out there. I need to focus on the positive and stop dwelling on the negative.

Anyway, it was a nice change of pace for me. And now, I am going to curl up under the blanket and watch last night's episode of "Earl" and "The Office" while eating my leftover shrimp scampi shu shu.