The difference between excitement and fear

I learned something new about myself as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, as blog ideas, paper ideas, half finished conversations, life questions and my to-do list swirled through my head.

Some people have muscle tension when their stressed. Some people go blind. Some people get irritable. Some people lose their libido. And some people eat or cry.

I get insomnia. And headaches. And I eat crapily.

As I started thinking about the times that I have had insomnia (and the other symptoms) in the past, I began to see a pattern.

I had insomnia for the entirety of hell year. I would go to bed around 9:30 pm. Lie awake looking at the ceiling, worrying about the bad ass kids I was supposed to teach. Finally, doze off about 3 or 4 am, and wake up at 5:30 to go to work.

At work I would go hide in the teacher’s lounge and cat nap in the bathroom (on the floor) or I would fall asleep during small reading group when the kids would read to me.

After work, I would spend 2 hours at the gym, go home, have dinner, have a couple of glasses of wine, take a sleeping pill (or three) and go to bed.  Then I would start the cycle all over again.

**shudder**

Four years ago, I started a new job, that I loved and for most of my employment there I took children’s Benadryl at night to help me fall asleep.

When I was studying for the GRE and LSAT 2 years ago, all the benadryl in the world couldn’t help me sleep the whole night through.

Every time I go visit the GF in Atlanta, the first night there is always spend restlessly calming down after the 6 hour drive.

You see, Stressd Moni = No Sleep

So a few weeks ago, the headaches started.  I thought it was the holidays. Or the constant NC-GA traveling. Or the crazy weather we were having . Or the GF.

Then I found myself staying awake until 2 am or later.  I thought it was because I was sleeping with the TV on (*cough*, gf’s fault) or because I was working on my capstone, or I was writing or tweeting or because of one thing or another.

But lately, things have gotten worse.   Even when I try to go to sleep “early”, at let’s say 1 am, I still find myself restless and screaming into my pillow.  I usually doze off at about 4 am.

Then morning comes and I drag my aching head out of the bed and into the kitchen, where I find that all I have to eat is canned soup, oatmeal, chocolate cake and popcorn (just slight exaggeration) because I haven’t been to the grocery in weeks.  So I eat chocolate cake (sans milk) for breakfast/lunch and get to work.

And I sit in front of the computer all day.  I’m working on my capstone, which this week means I’m data mining email addresses from downtown development authority websites.   Very tedious and mindless.

So mindless, that hours pass before I realize that all I’ve had to eat all day is chocolate cake. So I go back into the kitchen, get discouraged and eat some popcorn.

And go back to work.

Pathetic, sure. Stressful? Not really.

So what is my problem?

Then I remember my pattern. Not eating well, Not sleeping well, constant headaches.  Hhhmmmm. Sounds like stress.

But Monica, you’re still on vacation, the semester hasn’t even started, and your capstone is coming along. What do you have to be stressed about?

At some point, I’ve learned to live at a high anxiety level.  So, even when things are good, I CREATE stress. Or the perception of stress.  And if there is a little stress, I make it BIGGER. And if there is big stress, then oh boy!

I’m crazy. *sigh*

So, when I realized today that maybe the insomnia and heaviness that I’ve been feeling is stress related and not emotional or hormonal or a symptom of the coming full moon, I started evaluating my life and my stressors.

Know what I found?

Not stress. Not worry. Not really fear.

I found EXCITEMENT.

I am so CRUNK about this semester. My class schedule is amazing!

I have so many IDEAS. A new blog, short story characters, capstone stuff and business ideas have all taken up residence in my brain.

I will be starting a new employment opportunity soon.

I’ve set up lessons with a swim coach!

I bought a book that will help me create healthy meal plans!

I graduate in MAY and will be moving SOMEWHERE fabulous.

I’m finding direction in my life and I’m happy with where it’s going.

Even the things that scare me sh*tless like my classes or my capstone are contributing to the feeling of accomplishment and excitement and you-can do-it ness that I’m feeling.

I’m beginning to believe that stress doesn’t have to be bad. Stress (and it’s alter ego, excitement) can give us energy, and get our adrenaline pumping.

I’m glad I have been able to see that I’m excited (which is good), rather than worried or scared (which would be bad.)  I can use this excitement to get me through the next 6 months and make sure I get all my sh*t done on time.

I should probably stay up until 4 and get everything OUT of my head since I’m going to be awake anyway.

And when my body is ready to calm down, it will.

 

Monicaliciousness and other thoughts on 27

On December 13, 1981 a star was born.

That was real dramatic wasn’t it?  But it’s true. On that date, around 7 pm, according to my mama, a new (or fairly new) person entered this world.  I say fairly new because I’m not convinced that reincarnation isn’t real. I mean, how else to you explain deja vu or how some things (and some people) almost immediately feel like home? It’s because we’ve been here before and we’ve been sent back here to get things right this time (or just do a better job, at least).

What does it mean, to get things right? To me, it means fulfilling a purpose.  I’ve been thinking a lot about my purpose this week, partially because most days don’t go by without me thinking about what the hell I’m supposed to be doing. But it has been more heavily on my mind this week. And I’m blaming my mother for this too. (Most things are her fault, anyway, right?)

She says to me (on my birthday), “You are special. You have always been special. You have a calling on your life. I don’t know if you are supposed to preach (her wish for me) or if you are supposed to help people in some other way, but your life has a purpose, you have a mission.”

After I picked my damn mouth up off the floor, I stuttered my agreed. Yes, I said, I’m supposed to help people, and I went on to ask, “And since you are prophesying-why don’t you just tell me HOW I’m supposed to help people, I know the WHAT (sort of) but I’m stuck on the HOW.”

Of course, she didn’t have that answer. And yes, my mother is, like, crazy ya-ya spiritual. I just go with it; there is NO WAY to explain it. So when she starts telling me a dream that she had about me (that mirrored something that actually happened in my life) or when she says I’m “called” to do something, I take that sh*t seriously. She’s just that connected to whatever higher power is pulling the strings (or she’s crazy).

Either way, She’s right. I’m here on purpose. My birth was no accident. I have something to do that no one else could do. Now, if someone could just TELL MY WHAT MY PURPOSE IS!!!!!!!

Well, I’ve decided that 27 is a good enough age to figure that sh*t out. And it’s time for me to embrace whatever the hell I’m supposed to be.

I’m excited about being 27. Isn’t 27 the BEST age? It’s not like 24 where you are still too young, in most cases, to be taken seriously, or like 35 when you are too old to “drop it like it’s hot” or some other thing that 30+ people don’t do.

But at 27 I’m old enough to prove that I’ve been around the block and I know what the hell I’m talking about, but I’m still young enough to get a tattoo without having folks roll their eyes.

So I’m excited about 2009 and I’m looking forward to all that I will accomplish during my 27^th year!

I’m going to go ahead, letting the Universe know that I’m expecting this year to be moniceriffic (or monicalicious, or monicawesome (either will do).

 

How the recession hit me

I think I’ve mentioned at least once or twice how I love my job at the Chamber of Commerce. I’ve learned a lot since I started working there. I’ve learned so much; about myself, the kind of job I want in the future, and about the kinds of work I want to do. (An ode to why I love the Chamber is in the works, just not for today.)

Last week, I approached my boss to ask for the week between X-mas and News Year’s off.  And was informed that my services would not be needed after Wednesday. This coming Wednesday.  Sadness (and panic), ensues.

I mean my boss was is awesome.  He made sure I understood why I’m being laid off. I’mbeing laid off because they can’t afford me, not because I suck as an employee.  He even said that I rock as an employee and he wishes he could keep me and he’s being talking me up to folks who may be in a position to hire me.

I can’t believe that I’m being LAID OFF, this is so weird.

Why I’m being laid off (a longer version):

You see, the Chamber of Commerce is a membership organization.  Their members are local area businesses. And in a recession, businesses make less money.  All the businesses, regardless of whether they are professional services, restaurants, retailers, bars, or financial institutions when they make less money, they cut stuff to preserve the bottom line.   And some (I don’t know how many, exactly) of the Chamber’s members are not renewing their dues. I know the real estate and development community has been hit pretty hard.

As the Chamber’s members tighten their belts, the Chamber has to tighten theirs. And the intern budget disappears.

So I’m jobless. And not because I did anything wrong. Which makes it so much easier and happier (you can tell by my use of flowers and smiley faces and exclamation points, how much I mean this)

How the hell did I not see this coming???

But I didn’t see it coming. All this time, I’ve been making fun of the Big 3 and how they failed to innovate or do ANYTHING really.

And I’ve been scratching my head about the financial crisis and have shaken my head in disgust in my policy class when we would learn about the greed of Wall Street investors and am incredulous that they could do the sh*t they’ve done and still be holding their hands out.

I still haven’t figured out what the fu*k is the problem with the banks and why the hell can’t they just LEND money.

I’ve rolled my eyes at folks who made bad mortgages decisions. I mean, when I was looking for a home at age 24 I knew enough not to get into a ARM or a Balloon or a variable rate mortgage, so how are all these other people stupid enough to fall for it?

Well, I’ve heard the Chamber’s Executive Director talk about how next year will be the hardest year for the Chamber, who over the past 10 years has experienced double digit growth, but for the first time ever will be facing a cut.

But I didn’t know that meant that I’d be history.

Basically, I was stupid.  I thought that if I did more than my job, took initiative (asked for more work), and stayed visible and engaged, I’d have a job as long as I wanted it.

I was wrong. Sometimes when you do everything right sh*t still happens. And since I’m the low man on the totem pole, I shouldn’t be surprised that I happened to me.

It is fu*king hard out there for a pimp. (and I should know, as I am a pimp)

And the more I’ve thought about it today, even as I made a list of all the organizations in the area that I’ve like to work for the next semester, places I’m going to call right after the holiday break, I realized that probably every one of those organizations is going through a hard time. And as organizations slash millions from their budgets I KNOW that hiring me is going to be a hard sell.

Then I read this offer on Havi’s blog today and it seemed like a dream.  So I applied. And while I didn’t get the offer, it has given me another angle with which to approach my next move. And it gave me hope that work does exist. And I mean work from anywhere in the world kind of work, which would be awesome.

I mean, I’ve been toying with the whole freelance copywriting idea since the summer, and even talked to Naomi about it. But I never followed up or through.

So I’m developing my pitch, which will highlight the fact that hiring me as a contract working is WAY cheaper than hiring a full time employee, the fact that I can research and write, and the fact that I know all the local players.  And one of my favorite local news sources has even mentioned the fact that I’m hirable.  And that gives me hope.

And Kelly gave me a whole list of sites that I can use, in addition to what Naomi gave me, to start seriously start copywriting. And I starting feeling a little better. A little more hopeful.

And I talked to the gf and shared my fears about never getting a job (now or before May) because this is like a replay of 2003 right after Bush bombed Iraq and all the job leads I had dried up (I wanted to be an au pair in France, but after the bombs fell and the whole freedom fries thing, French parents started specifying English, from England au pairs, not American English-speaking girls.)  That’s right the Spring of 2003 was the pre-cursor to Hell Year!!

And when I think about that I get nervous and I start to sweat and I get paralyzed and unable to do ANYTHING. Then the gf tells me that she believes in me, enough even, that I don’t have to believe in myself today. And that gives me LOTS of hope, because she’s pretty smart, and she wouldn’t have faith in me if I were a complete loser.

To all my fellow low men on the totem pole, I wish I had something uplifting and spiritual and sh*t to share with you to make you feel that your job is not  in danger.

Sorry, I can’t say that.

But I can say that even if the complete bottom falls out. I am NOT too proud to work at Target. I am NOT too proud to bus tables. I am NOT too proud to work at the mall. (and neither should you be)

But I don’t really want to work at any of those places (and neither do you). What I do want to do is convince organizations that they need my skills (even if they don’t necessary have the budget for staff) and that hiring me to work on projects saves them time and money, and helps them to check small-ish projects off their to-do list.

So I’m still tackling the list of organizations that I made earlier today, I’m just refining the way I talk to them. And I’m no longer panicked. I have a plan. A plan that I probably should have BEEN working on, anyway.

How are you recession-proofing your job?

 

Learning Personal Style

I am the oldest of four children.  Luckily, my mother gave birth to excellence all four times. We are smart, beautiful, gifted, funny and one day we will rule the world.

While I do believe the genes worked in my favor in a lot of ways, there is at least one way that my siblings are better than me.

My brother and sisters have awesome fashion sense.

And I don’t.

This comes to my attention every time I look at my youngest sister.  This woman is 18 and she dresses beautifully. She always looks well put together (even when she’s wearing sweatpants and t-shirts).  It is so not fair.  And my brother, goodness, this boy makes jeans and polos look as good as anything I’ve ever seen. They can wear colors and shapes and style and so many things that make me look dumpy and old. Or too young and fat.  Either way, my babies always look great, and I often look a step-child. And they are quick to point out all the fashion mistakes I make.

Well, this year I made a decision.  I am an adult andI need to dress like an adult. And just any old adult. I need to be hot, sexy, (but professional) lady.  I need to be a bombshell at all times.  I need walk into a room and hear my theme music.  [It is Dancing Queen, btw]

I need confidence.

I think better clothes will give me more confidence.

Furthermore, I’m in transition. I’m about to start the last semester of MPA school.  I’m going to going on interviews soon. I’m moving across the country. I’m starting a new life.   I am an adult, I should look like one. And I need to feel good about myself.  Now. Not just when I lose 20 pounds.

I’m growing up, and creating my personal style. Most importantly, my outside needs to match my inside, which we all know is peaches and cream, sugar and spice, super cool and awesomeness.

So this year, when my mother took me out for our customary “its your birthday, let’s buy clothes” shopping extravaganza, I made my super awesome, fashionista sister come with. And I made her give me lessons on putting outfits together. She had some good things to say:

• Make sure that shirts are long enough, so that you aren’t fidgeting with a too-short shirt
• Pants, likewise, should be long (my sis is tall and thinks highwaters are the devil)
• Stick to colors that are easy to match (but don’t get stuck)
• Take risks and don’t be afraid to try new things
• Love accessories (belts, necklaces, earrings, etc)
• Layer- camisoles and cardigans are your friend
• Buy clothes that fit (not too tight or you look skanky, but not so big that you look like a balloon)
• Create a long leansilhouette (no bulges)
• Be comfortable

This shopping trip was fun. For the first time, i didn’t fret that all the trendy jean styles didn’t look good.  I didn’t buy pants thinking, well, when I lose weight it’ll look  better. And I wasn’t in charge of finding my sizes (my sister was).

[Aside: This girl is a Economic major, but I swear she should be an image consultant. I'd PAY her for her insight, or to just go shopping and bring the clothes to me.]

I bought clothes that fit well and made me look more awesome than usual. And I’m really f-ing happy with my purchases.

Granted, some things never change so most of my new clothes are black, gray and red (I bet 80% of my closet consist of those colors). But wait, i bought a green cardigan and I bought something purple.   I also bought a few items that I normally wouldn’t wear, like buttondown shirts and hip hugging sweaters. AND I bought one of those wide belts that is supposed to accentuate my figure, and  long pants that fit. (no muffintop or highwaters for me, lol).

But since my birthday isn’t until Dec. 13 (that’s right, Saturday!!!!) I can’t wear my beautiful new clothes until then. BOO!   However, my lovely gf is taking out for fabulous dinner, and I’m looking forward to getting dressed up in my  new birthday clothes!

 

My most intellectual thoughts reflect my personal childhood desires

I’ve been looking for my passion.  I’ve been looking for it for a long time.  I, like a lot of 20-somethings around me have been spending our young adulthood trying to figure out what the hell we are supposed to do, or figuring out how to get from a place of “I know what I want to do” to a place of “I’m doing what I’m supposed to do”.

 I’m still in the “Hell if I know, but I’m working on it” category.  But I think a lot about it. 

Tuesday mornings are the time that I work on my Master’s Thesis, and right now I’m reading for my literature review.  Today I picked up Richard Florida’s Cities and the Creative Class.  (In my thesis, I have to prove that cities are important- and that the best cities are the cool cities. I KNOW, viscerally, that this is true. I just have to prove that the eggheads agree with me)

 In the introduction of the book, Florida talks about his background, his childhood, his experiences, and how they shaped his future research and the catalog of books he’s written. He talked about how visiting his father’s factory job influenced him to be interested in technological advancement and how the closing of that plant caused him to be interested in economic growth.

 I had only read a few pages at that point but I had to stop and think.  What, if anything, in my childhood, has shaped my interests, research, and just maybe, my passions?

 I’ve been thinking about this, in one way or another, since this summer.  My friend, L , and I would spend hours at work talking about MPA classes and what each of us has learned at school, our work styles (she’s into details, and I’m into the big picture) , and how these things could be merged into a career somehow. The conversations would, invariably, return to the things that we enjoyed as a child and wouldn’t it be cool if we could do that for a living?

 Our conclusion surprised the both of us, and I would often leave the conversation trying to figure out how the hell we’ve ended up where we are. Neither of us are your average government bureaucrats.

She’s an interior designer at heart- and truly, the girl designed everything. She is the posterchild for form meeting function. She’s so good at it. 

As for me, I’ve recently rediscoved writing. Apparently, I have been writing for as long as I remember. My sister, while she was cleaning my old room this summer, found chapters of a book I started to write in middle school. She found stacks of poems and journals. The little bi-atch read my old diaries-with my mother, no less.  Then they called to laugh at me, and read me passages. (gotta love my family)

Additionally, or maybe most importantly,  I have been OBSESSED with houses and neighborhoods and architecture for forever.  

 For a while, I too wanted to be an interior designer. But I knew that every house would reeflect my style and not the style of the client. (I knew that was bad)  I want every house to feel like home (my home, lol).  

I remember, during church, I would find myself drawing log cabins (how many windows should be on the front?) and designing streets (I hate cul de sacs), neighborhoods (lots of people should live together) and whole cities (I love skylines) . But they were just silly doodles, right? They didn’t mean anything, right?

 Silly, silly me. 

My experiences

We moved around a lot as a kid, and some of the places we lived were great for a young girl obsessed with living spaces.  Once we lived in Raleigh for a few months, and we have a 3 story townhouse. It was beautiful.  It has winding staircases, cathedral ceilings, a finished basement with arcade games, a huge patio, bedrooms for everyone, and lots of stuff that I can’t remember, but that I loved.

 And once we lived in Georgia, and we had an awesome neighborhood.  There were always lots of people outside, kids everywhere, and everyone was so friendly.  I still remember what our phone number was.  I was 3-4 and my mother made me memorize it. 

For the majority of my childhood, I lived in a not-so great house, with no neighbors (other than family) and no neighborhood to speak of.  I remember wanting, so badly to live somewhere nicer. I wanted to live somewhere not covered in dirt or kudzu. I mean, we lived in the COUNTRY. And I wanted out. I wanted to love someplace shiny, clean.  I wanted to live near the bright lights.

 I thought I wanted to live in the city, dammit.

 (As an aside, I lived in the city this summer.  If Atlanta is representative of American’s cities, I don’t want to live there either. )

 In high school, my favorite class was Civics.  I spend most of the year in class watching the Democratic primary (featuring a charming southern governor) and learning the purpose and functions of government. Government seemed like the perfect place for someone who wanted to make stuff happen. (someone like, ahem, me)

 My senior year, I fell into my first local government job. A friend of mine had the job, she was going to college, and she recommended that the agency hire me to take her place.  Since then, minus hell year that I spend in 1^st grade, I have always worked in local government.

 In college, I lived in Winston Salem. Part of the draw for Winston was that I thought it was a bigger, brighter city than Chapel Hill.  I was pissed off and confused because they lured me in with their skyline (it still makes me smile) and then I got downtown and it was not the mecca that I expected.  Instead it alternated between being a complete ghost town and a place most likely to get a. shot b. drugged c. raped d. hit on by a transvestite.

 Now, in any new place I visit, I always want to see the neighborhoods. Where do people actually live? Where do they play?  I’m inexplicably drawn to the lights of downtown. For years,  I have explored where and how other people live. I want to see the housing styles and the feel of the neighborhood. I am a huge fan of the Parade of Homes.

So, does ANY of this have to do me with finding my passion?

 Just a little bit.

 Housing. Neighborhoods. Cities. Writing. These are the things that I care about. These are the things that I have always cared about- even when I didn’t realize it.

 Here I sit, in graduate school, thinking that I should study budgeting, finance, planning and land use.  But instead, I am still obsessed with housing, neighborhoods, and cities.

 My personal dramas and experiences have definitively shaped my most priced intellectual thoughts. I can’t tell you how proud I am of the writing I’ve done this semester, regardless of  how rushed or stressed I felt while doing it. The classes that I am taking this and next semester make me so happy.  They are the reason that I came to graduate school.

 I am finally in a position to bring to fruition all the things that I wanted as a child/teen/young adult but didn’t quite know how/what to do.

 Yes, I want to take over the world. Yes, I want to be a Queen, Ruler of the Universe. And yes, I think about how accomplish these things, daily. (no, seriously, I do)

 Most importantly, however,  I really want to make the world a better place for all of us to live, work, and play.

 

Sadly, I am not Superwoman

Some of you may have already known that I’m not Superwoman, but really it was news to me.

I was sitting in class yesterday, and the professor was trying very hard to have a class discussion about local economic development theory, but basically he was vomiting words at us, and I’d bet money that most of us were thinking about the series of assignments that he gave us at the beginning of class and not about how to revitalize communities.

The assignments were:

Assignment 1– A neighborhood assessment, including a neighborhood walk-through and census data analysis.

Assignment 2– A 5-6 pager on our Community Development Philosophy-complete with references to the multitude of articles that I haven’t read yet.

Assignment 3—Research something meaningful for a local non-profit. I’m working with Downtown Durham Inc to check out the feasibility of inclusionary zoning. (loads of fun, actually)

As the professor told us his expectations for these various projects, I had a startling thought.

Something has got to go. I can’t do everything. Unless something goes (and quickly) something important (like my health or sanity) is going to slip and I’m going to seriously f*ck-up my life.

This is a major shift in how I think. I generally believe that everything will fall into place; I just have to keep up. Yesterday I realized that there are a limited number of hours in a day, and a limited number of days in a week, and that this semester is FLYING BY and I am slowly getting behind. And my advisors aren’t shy about telling me that I’ve got 2 weeks to write my thesis proposal. YIKES!!!

But most importantly, at some point over the past six months, I’ve gotten fat and my head always hurts and my allergies are giving me hell. And this is bad, bad, bad.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know at the beginning of the semester that I was going to have to be in class, write papers read articles, work on projects; it was just that all of a sudden it the end of September and everything is due. Right now. It wasn’t that I didn’t notice that my eating habits suck, that I exercise once or twice a week, and that I don’t sleep really well. I notice everything. I just kept pushing EVERYTHING to the back burner and tried to believe that everything would be ok.

I’ve let my life get away from me. I don’t feel like I’m in control. And that is a no no.

In the eternally relevant words of my dear friend, L:

I have to get my life together.

-I am dropping a class. Sadly, it has to be Planning for Jobs. I like this class, it is intellectually stimulating, but it takes up a significant part of my week, it really it isn’t what I expected and I don’t want to work with labor markets or unions, so the ROI is very small.

- I have the freaking schedule exercise time. 5 days a week. I have pudge in places where I have never had pudge. And since I am creeping towards 30 (very, very slowly, mind you) I have to curb the pudginess NOW. I mean, my fall clothes are a wee bit tight. And that is very, very bad.

-I’m going on the Go Lean Breakfast, Popcorn snack, and Lean Cuisine Lunch diet. I gotta get right for the job market. No one wants to hire a fat girl. (Or I just don’t want to be the fat girl that they have to hire because I’m brilliant, but they don’t want to because she’s fat)

-I have to get on a schedule pronto, and freaking stick to it. Maybe I can talk to Holly about teaching me how to schedule. I have a master’s paper to write so that I can graduate, along with all the other papers/presentation that I have to write/do. I work 20 hours a week. I have a life, friends, and a blog for goodness sakes. I gotta fit it all in.

-I have to take my allergy meds (EVERYDAY!!!). I feel like sh*t otherwise, (like today).

 

How do you move from big ideas to making it happen?

I was just reading this article about blueberries, and one of the last lines struck a nerve with me.

What the hell am I leaving for the next person? I think that’s one (of many) things that worries, disturbs, bothers, and annoys me about my life. What good am I?

I believe that everything we do has an effect, and we can chose the mark we want to leave on the world. I want my life to do some good, like the witches in A Wrinkle in Time. I want to use my life and talents to help put out some of the darkness in the world. But I’m not quite sure how yet…..and it is so frustrating.

I feel like I need to focus, but on what exactly? I am constantly learning something new that just opens up more opportunity. I thought grad school would help me focus and narrow my scope in a way that Philosophy did not. But I’m finding myself with the same problem. One the one hand I am interested in a lot of stuff. On the other hand, I know how I work best. I need to feel useful, I need to contribute, I have a short attention span, and I hate details.

Right now, I’m having an issue with too many choices. I like writing, I like to travel, I like cities and thinking about ways to make them better. I’m interested in creating livable, sustainable communities. I understand the importance of people power, and the importance of place. I’ve been recently converted, and am now a believer in using technology as a way to communication and engage disparate groups of people.

And I think to myself, ok self, now what?

Should I focus? Should I let my overactive imagination continue to run wild? Do I need to talk to a career coach? Or should I shut up and let my life unfold? I’m a type A, control type person so going with the flow makes me want to have a heart attack.

So I’ll ask you, NOW WHAT?

How do you get from wanting to change the world to actually doing it?

 

Out of Sorts today- the quarterlife crisis continues

I had a phone call with a wonderful friend today. We talked about growing up and how much it sucks.

We talked about how we used to have these really grand, wonderful dreams and how we’ve gotten sucked into a semi-crap lives that are not at all like we envisioned.

We talked about how people can and will disappoint us and sometimes some things are just not meant to be.

We talked about how most of us (myself being first in this line) don’t really know ourselves and must rely on friends for a reality check. We talked about being afraid to really get to know ourselves because we might not like/recognize/be scared of the person that we are.

We talked about how we don’t always feel like the person looking back at us in the mirror. We talked about not knowing how we got this far from ourselves.

We talked about taking risks, and feeling out of control and slinking back into something more comfortable and safe. And about how this is so wrong and how we should stop this behavior. We don’t want to be normal, and we are afraid that we are.

We talked about vulnerability and about allowing ourselves to feel the spectrum of emotions and how, when you FINALLY let yourself feel anything and God forbid, analyze those feelings, it can be incredibly overwhelming.

We talked about being true to ourselves and how we only have to live up to our own expectations. We talked about how hard it is to be our authentic selves, especially when you are used to putting the needs of others before your own or you’ve lost yourself in a situation, or you’ve forgotten what’s important. And rejection is oh so hard to deal with, especially when that whole “feeling” thing is still a pretty new concept.

We talked about how I tried to spend some time last night meditating on what I want out of life and what I should do to get there, but instead I fell asleep and didn’t wake up with any revelations.

We talked about starting over and doing what the hell ever it is that we really want.

We are going to do it; step by step, little by little. And we are going to hold each other accountable . We are better than who we have become (I don’t think I just made that up, but damn if I don’t know where I got it from)

Raise your glasses! To jumping into the abyss and following our dreams….where ever they take us.

 

My Quarter-Life Crisis: The Transition Part 1

I read three posts today here , here and here where the quarter-life crisis (QLC) was mentioned.

In these posts, the writers talk about the QLC as a time of transition into adulthood and ways to get through it. I totally agree that moving from college carelessness to the working wounded is hard. Being an adult is not something that they teach in college. (my buddy Matt is going to change all that)  Unfortunately, I don’t have any tips on how to get over the QLC because I don’t think you get one and then it’s over.  I can think back over the past few years and see an earth-shattering, quaking volcanic eruption with massive destruction, followed by an unending set of aftershocks.  It ain’t pretty and it ain’t done yet.

When I think about my twenties, my BIG QLC was just the first Transition. I am definitely a work in progress and 2003-2004 was just the beginning. I haven’t actively thought about my QLC(s), in years. I mean, I talk about it all the time, to anyone who asks but not in the context of a QLC. I generally call it the year from Hell or that time when I was depressed or the year I was teaching, or just that really bad time in my life. (Or ages 20-26, hee hee)

After college, my plan was to au pair in France, but the Iraq war dried up all my leads and I started my job search really, really late. I temped and babysat for the summer and eventually took the first job that offered me health insurance (which is how I ended up in Hell for a year)

In addition to not finding a job that I was proud of, and the headache associated with never having enough money, I felt an overwhelming pressure to be special and perfect and to be doing big important things. However, I was clueless and unfocused and just trying to keep my head above water. I was living on my own and I trying to be responsible for myself.

Honestly, I didn’t have a clue about what I really wanted to do, or the best way to get there. I applied to at least a hundred really cool jobs but no one was willing to take a chance on someone as inexperienced and desperate as I was. I think hiring managers can smell desperation like animals can smell fear.

So I was spiraling (down not up). I hated my job, and since my job defines my life, (I know its sad but true) I kind of hated myself and the sucky situation that I found myself in. But, I didn’t know how to fix it because I wasn’t focused and I didn’t know what I wanted. I just wanted everything to be better, but I didn’t know how to get there. I really felt this crazy internal pressure to do and be more (something, anything). I didn’t feel that I was where I was supposed to be, but I didn’t know what the hell to do differently.

So, anyway, my life really, really sucked that year, and then I gave up on being an adult and moved back in with my mother. I was so miserable that I knew that I was destined to work at Target. I was all set to apply for a job there when I got an offer from another job, which turned out to be an amazing and educational experience. It was then that my life exponentially improved.

So I’ve gone from being 30% (or less) happy/content/ok with myself during Hell year (2003-04, BTW) (which I only survived because of three really important friends, alcohol, sleeping pills and working out excessively) to about 55% happy/content/ok by 2005 (without as much alcohol, no sleeping pills and normal amounts of exercise, and away from my friends). But even in my amazing job with my amazing co-workers, living with my family I was still feeling really blah most of the time, but I had mostly leveled off, at least for a while.

I will probably never feel 100% happy, I mean, what would I do then, lol? But I knew there was more to life than what I was experiencing.

So much has happened since 2005 that has helped to shape who I am. I know I am still in transition, even though it has been hella hard to get to where I am. I’ve come a loooong way, baby. I’m even starting to feel very Zen about Hell year and I’ve embraced the notion that everything happens for a reason. So even when nothing makes sense, it’s all in preparation for the good stuff that’s coming my way.

So this gets me over the hump of my huge/bad/insane QLC. The events of 2003-2004 set me on a course that allowed me to have the necessary background and to meet the right people to put me where I am today. And there is so much more to tell! But this is already way too long.