So I have news. In the space of a week I have gone from having no jobs to having two jobs. The first one you know about already. It’s a writing job, part time, working from home. I am excited about it and wish I could do it full time, but it doesn’t pay enough. That’s fine, I’m not doing it for the money, I’m doing it for the fame and recognition. It will add great writing experience to my resume and move me that much closer to my goal.
Job number two is a different story. The good news is, the pay is excellent and it came literally in the nick of time, just as I was about to reach the very end of my unemployment funds. The bad news is that it’s not what I want to do, at a company so huge I am overwhelmed, and in a location that is less than ideal for me.
There are good things about getting back into a full time job. One of course is the money. It’s been hard to pay the bills and make ends meet and I can’t tell you how sick I am of stressing over this. It will be so nice to be able to do the little things that most people take for granted, like get a hair cut and buy groceries. And save. I plan to save as much as I can.
The other good thing is the thing my mom always points out… she thinks I get into trouble when I have too much time on my hands to worry and obsess over things, and she’s right. Idle minds and all that. I get trapped in the bubble of my thoughts sometimes and things can seem distorted from that perspective, and off kilter. It will be good to have something to think about I suppose.
But I’m also really depressed about the whole endeavor. I know no one has sympathy for me, I’ve been out of work for almost two years and I’ve been getting paid for it. I get that. I probably wouldn’t have sympathy for me either. But all of a sudden I’m stressing out over how much things are going to change, especially now. I’m feeling like I’m not going to have time anymore and maybe that’s not realistic, but it’s making me feel sad. And so if I’ve seemed insecure lately and idealistic, like I’ve been trying to cling desperately to these last few days and weeks and fit in as much of what I want to do as I can, well that’s the reason.
I guess there are other reasons that involve the uncertainty I seem so good at living under regarding the future and my place in it. The thing is, I know what I want. Or at least, I’m starting to. But I have no idea how to get there and even if my hopes and dreams want me in the same way. And I see this job as just a stepping stone, a necessary deal I have to make: selling my precious time but putting me in a better position for the future, for working toward my goals.
I know I will be fine. I am adaptable and always have been. I am resiliant and have always moved forward by never looking back. You could uproot me from my surroundings and put me down in a different place and I will have settled in and adjusted beautifully in no time flat. That’s just how I am and I know I will always be fine, no matter where I am and who I’m with and what the circumstances are. But that doesn’t mean the getting there will always go smoothly. I will fight tooth and nail to maintain a semblance of balance and calm up until the very last minute.
Because change is scary, even if it’s good. And there is so much I will miss. I will miss long summer days with nothing to do but walk the streets with the sun on my face. I will miss mornings in bed, comfortable in the knowledge that I have nowhere in particular I have to be, and no obligations to anyone. I will miss endless afternoons with good books and watching movies late into the night on a week night, any night at all. I know, you’re finding it harder and harder to sympathize aren’t you? That’s ok, I don’t need you to. I am not complaining, not really. I think I’m documenting to prove it was real. Just like at the end of the summer when I went to the public pool and submerged myself neck deep in the water and stared at the beautiful blue sky and soaked up the smell of the chlorine and tried so fervently to imprint that moment onto my senses so that later, in the dead of winter when just stepping outside is painful because it’s that cold, I could remember that summer moment. I never once took it for granted. I have always acknowledged my good fortune. I am a lucky, lucky girl, and I am very aware of that fact every single day.
So don’t feel sorry for me, I don’t blame you. Don’t cry for me Argentina. But it is the end of an era. In 1973, John Lennon left New York for L.A. and spent eighteen months seperated from Yoko, partying and gallavanting all over the place before returning to NY, reuniting with Yoko, and settling back in to life as usual. He would later call this period of his life his “lost weekend”. To me it symbolizes a break from routine and responsibility and by it’s very nature, something that was never designed to last. Well, this has been my lost weekend. And it’s been one hell of a weekend, let me tell you.