When I was a kid, we weren't one of those families that moved. I never, ever had to change schools. My family moved once, from a trailer house into a house, when I was a toddler, and that was all it ever was. We swapped bedrooms a few times, rearranged furniture regularly, remodeled and remodeled and remodeled, even had our address change when the county installed rural street names, but my house was always my house.
From 2009-2013, I moved every three to nine months (thanks, college). Honestly, I got to be a pro at it. I could fit everything, including a tv, mini fridge, and microwave, in my Buick sedan. It became a cycle of knowing when to unpack, what to leave behind, and when to start bringing things back home to make those last days of school less cluttered.
After graduation, I stayed with my parents for eleven months. Then I moved again, into my new apartment onsite at my job, with no firm idea how long I would be there or where I would go after.
It's time to move again. Almost 15 months later, I look around my apartment, and my thoughts are all about how to pack and which items can leave first. It doesn't feel like I've been here so long, and yet every day I've been here also feels like a week. So many things have accumulated in my apartment. As my first time living alone, I supplied everything in this room, no more college roommates to split half of the household items with, and an entire space to hold whatever craft supplies and books and papers my heart desires.
With just a couple days left, I'm at the juncture of needing to pack and having zero desire to pack. I've already taken home several boxes, and a few more are all ready to go, but I hate committing to what I won't need in the next couple of days. Knowing how little time I will have to do any packing on move day is just making me that much more boxes in by the entire process.
The only good thing about packing and moving is purging. I have already taken my garbage out three times this week. Things that had gotten shoved on a shelf or mixed in with a stack of "keepers" are now exposed and on their way out. Old catalogs? Recycled. Dried up pens? Tossed. Out with the old really does usher in the new - and I am so, so ready for the new.
But I still hesitate before I throw some things away, even some obvious things. I know that I can be a bit of a hoarder, that I don't always let things go when I should, and I have those moments about the move and job as well. This is where I'm comfortable, this is where I'm safe, and this is where I know my place. It takes courage to change; I've never considered myself particularly brave. But here we are.
"...If he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory or defeat." --Theodore Roosevelt
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
Sometimes You Quit; Or, When Your Boss Cries
I have never quit a job.
Me leaving a job (with the exception of one time I was let go - the story behind which would be an entire blog) has always been inevitable because I was moving to college or home from college, a predetermined going away point that just tick-tocked closer and closer.
That changed this week.
Now, I have known my boss almost my entire life. My brother and I went to school with her two kids. She gave me my first job in high school. She handed me my diploma when I walked across the stage at my high school commencement. And while she's not exactly a friend, she has played a huge role in my life. I appreciate the many, many things she has done to help me, especially in the last ten years, despite the fact that we often don't see things the same way.
There's a level of stilted-ness that comes about when you know your boss is trying to sell the business and that your job might not necessarily exist when that happens. You have to watch what you say, because if the business doesn't sell, you still have to work for her, but at the same time, there are serious questions that need to be addressed. Knowing if anyone has looked or mad an offer completely changes your timeline. At the same time, though, you then become responsible for what you tell those below you - you need them to keep working and keep the business running, but you don't want to blindside them with a complete loss of income either. It's a tightrope.
The tightrope is made thinner by the fact that I don't enjoy my job. And not just because it doesn't challenge me or I don't enjoy the work, but because I have some fundamental struggles with decisions that are being made at the top and I am burned out from being on call 24 hours a day.
It is time for me to move on. I know that, and I've felt it for a while, but I had a strange little plan of sticking out another nine months or so before really starting to look elsewhere. Then a job opened up - not necessarily my Dream Job, but at least a dreamy one - in my desired field, with a raise and benefits. It was a long road, but I got it.
And suddenly I had to tell my boss that I got a new job, when I hadn't even told her I was applying for one. As I was telling her, all she could say was, "Ah, Sarah," in this keening way that reminded me of the way my dog whimpers when someone leaves without her. "What are we going to do without you?"
I replied tongue-in-cheek and excused myself. Only later that evening did I hear that after I left, her husband found her sitting at the desk, teary-eyed over my abandonment. I can't say I'm surprised by this, but I wonder if maybe it isn't even more of a sign that I need to go somewhere else, that I allowed myself to become indispensable in a place where I had no desire to remain.
While she was crying, I was just happy for this chapter of my life to close.
Me leaving a job (with the exception of one time I was let go - the story behind which would be an entire blog) has always been inevitable because I was moving to college or home from college, a predetermined going away point that just tick-tocked closer and closer.
That changed this week.
Now, I have known my boss almost my entire life. My brother and I went to school with her two kids. She gave me my first job in high school. She handed me my diploma when I walked across the stage at my high school commencement. And while she's not exactly a friend, she has played a huge role in my life. I appreciate the many, many things she has done to help me, especially in the last ten years, despite the fact that we often don't see things the same way.
There's a level of stilted-ness that comes about when you know your boss is trying to sell the business and that your job might not necessarily exist when that happens. You have to watch what you say, because if the business doesn't sell, you still have to work for her, but at the same time, there are serious questions that need to be addressed. Knowing if anyone has looked or mad an offer completely changes your timeline. At the same time, though, you then become responsible for what you tell those below you - you need them to keep working and keep the business running, but you don't want to blindside them with a complete loss of income either. It's a tightrope.
The tightrope is made thinner by the fact that I don't enjoy my job. And not just because it doesn't challenge me or I don't enjoy the work, but because I have some fundamental struggles with decisions that are being made at the top and I am burned out from being on call 24 hours a day.
It is time for me to move on. I know that, and I've felt it for a while, but I had a strange little plan of sticking out another nine months or so before really starting to look elsewhere. Then a job opened up - not necessarily my Dream Job, but at least a dreamy one - in my desired field, with a raise and benefits. It was a long road, but I got it.
And suddenly I had to tell my boss that I got a new job, when I hadn't even told her I was applying for one. As I was telling her, all she could say was, "Ah, Sarah," in this keening way that reminded me of the way my dog whimpers when someone leaves without her. "What are we going to do without you?"
I replied tongue-in-cheek and excused myself. Only later that evening did I hear that after I left, her husband found her sitting at the desk, teary-eyed over my abandonment. I can't say I'm surprised by this, but I wonder if maybe it isn't even more of a sign that I need to go somewhere else, that I allowed myself to become indispensable in a place where I had no desire to remain.
While she was crying, I was just happy for this chapter of my life to close.
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Rejection, Acceptance, and Faith
I live on site at my job. It's 26 feet from my apartment to my office. This sometimes leads to awkward, strange mornings - me sitting at the desk taking a reservation when my boss unlocks the door on my day off, running for the phone still in a towel after my shower, or a renter knocking on my door having locked himself out.
Or, as it was about a month ago, a realtor trying to open my bedroom door.
Luckily, I lock the doors at night, otherwise the poor realtor, potential buyers (a high school friend of mine and her mom - seriously, small towns can get so damn awkward), and my boss would have had quite the sight.
The day the realtor woke me up was the same day I submitted a job application in a nervous, hopeful fog. I had applied for this job once before, senior year of college when I still had a full semester of class ahead. I never heard a peep. A lot changed in two years, and I held my breath as I prayed over the process, sure that God's timing was so obvious here.
Three hours later, I had an interview.
The interview ended with them saying I had "an awesome set of skills." They told me the decision would be three days.
Three days later, they told me three more days.
Three days later, the opportunity was gone.
They were very complimentary. Basically, it had come down to me and someone else, and the someone edged me out. If another opportunity came up, they would love to have me.
A nice rejection doesn't make you feel any less rejected.
I sat in the bottom of my closet and cried as I called my SO and my mom. I ate an absurd amount of calories. I bought some vodka. I argued with friends, because sometimes they just don't say the right things and sometimes you just don't care enough to be nice about it. And mostly, I felt crummy and boxed in and just not good enough.
7 days later, everything changed.
I was checking my email during a particularly slow moment at work. The woman who would have been my boss made an appearance. In essence, the someone else had backed out, and they wanted me - was I still interested?
Um, yes.
So now here I sit, filling my last two weeks before moving into The New, The Different, and The Unknown. I spent those seven days resigning myself to staying where I was, to believing that the right thing would come, that there was a reason I wasn't "there" yet. And now it's all changed again. The world is so topsy-turvy sometimes, so hard to reckon with. But I believe those seven days were good for me, if only to serve as a reminder that I need to accept myself and accept that I won't always be the best, the brightest, and the winner.
Or, as it was about a month ago, a realtor trying to open my bedroom door.
Luckily, I lock the doors at night, otherwise the poor realtor, potential buyers (a high school friend of mine and her mom - seriously, small towns can get so damn awkward), and my boss would have had quite the sight.
The day the realtor woke me up was the same day I submitted a job application in a nervous, hopeful fog. I had applied for this job once before, senior year of college when I still had a full semester of class ahead. I never heard a peep. A lot changed in two years, and I held my breath as I prayed over the process, sure that God's timing was so obvious here.
Three hours later, I had an interview.
The interview ended with them saying I had "an awesome set of skills." They told me the decision would be three days.
Three days later, they told me three more days.
Three days later, the opportunity was gone.
They were very complimentary. Basically, it had come down to me and someone else, and the someone edged me out. If another opportunity came up, they would love to have me.
A nice rejection doesn't make you feel any less rejected.
I sat in the bottom of my closet and cried as I called my SO and my mom. I ate an absurd amount of calories. I bought some vodka. I argued with friends, because sometimes they just don't say the right things and sometimes you just don't care enough to be nice about it. And mostly, I felt crummy and boxed in and just not good enough.
7 days later, everything changed.
I was checking my email during a particularly slow moment at work. The woman who would have been my boss made an appearance. In essence, the someone else had backed out, and they wanted me - was I still interested?
Um, yes.
So now here I sit, filling my last two weeks before moving into The New, The Different, and The Unknown. I spent those seven days resigning myself to staying where I was, to believing that the right thing would come, that there was a reason I wasn't "there" yet. And now it's all changed again. The world is so topsy-turvy sometimes, so hard to reckon with. But I believe those seven days were good for me, if only to serve as a reminder that I need to accept myself and accept that I won't always be the best, the brightest, and the winner.
Monday, May 11, 2015
A Divided Heart
I'm going to dinner with a friend tomorrow night. Actually, I'm taking her out to dinner. To celebrate. Her engagement.
Even just thinking about it makes me a little tired. Don't get me wrong, she's a good friend, and I love spending an evening with her whenever I can get a chance. But tomorrow night is going to be an endless game I play with myself and my divided heart.
I love her.
I am so happy for her.
I want to be her.
None of us are strangers to jealousy. If you say you've never felt that deep stomach twinge, you're a liar. Even the kindest, most humble people have had those moments of "Why me?"
It's natural. But it's so dark.
I miss the man I love. He's been away for a long time, and each day seems a little harder to swallow when I stop to think of it. I hate each and every mile between us, I hate the circumstances that keep him away, I hate the knowledge that even if he were here, there would still be struggles to overcome and difficulties to face.
I love my friend. I feel blessed to have her living near me for the time being, that I can be a part of stories she will tell to loved ones in years to come. But I want to cry and rage and stamp my feet and scream that no one can be happy until I can be happy.
The dark and the light, they live in two places in my heart. The light is for everyone. The light is what shines when you run into acquaintances in the gym or when the cashier asks how you're doing today. The darkness isn't for everyone or every time or everywhere. The darkness isn't even always for those who would normally take it. I've shared my dark heart with my friend before, spilling out sadness and anger and doubt about my love, my job, my home. But I won't lay my darkness about her marriage at her feet. Does she know? Oh, I'm sure she knows. I'm sure she can get 4 from 2 + 2 and knows that my loneliness and yearning make it hard to hold a smile, but I won't tell her that. She doesn't deserve my darkness in her light.
I'll tell you, though. I'll tell other dear friends, and I'll even tell myself. I won't let the darkness fester in dark corners alone, I'll bring it out into my consciousness, out into the world, where light and love can shine and make it a little less dark when I tuck it away again to celebrate with her.
Even just thinking about it makes me a little tired. Don't get me wrong, she's a good friend, and I love spending an evening with her whenever I can get a chance. But tomorrow night is going to be an endless game I play with myself and my divided heart.
I love her.
I am so happy for her.
I want to be her.
None of us are strangers to jealousy. If you say you've never felt that deep stomach twinge, you're a liar. Even the kindest, most humble people have had those moments of "Why me?"
It's natural. But it's so dark.
I miss the man I love. He's been away for a long time, and each day seems a little harder to swallow when I stop to think of it. I hate each and every mile between us, I hate the circumstances that keep him away, I hate the knowledge that even if he were here, there would still be struggles to overcome and difficulties to face.
I love my friend. I feel blessed to have her living near me for the time being, that I can be a part of stories she will tell to loved ones in years to come. But I want to cry and rage and stamp my feet and scream that no one can be happy until I can be happy.
The dark and the light, they live in two places in my heart. The light is for everyone. The light is what shines when you run into acquaintances in the gym or when the cashier asks how you're doing today. The darkness isn't for everyone or every time or everywhere. The darkness isn't even always for those who would normally take it. I've shared my dark heart with my friend before, spilling out sadness and anger and doubt about my love, my job, my home. But I won't lay my darkness about her marriage at her feet. Does she know? Oh, I'm sure she knows. I'm sure she can get 4 from 2 + 2 and knows that my loneliness and yearning make it hard to hold a smile, but I won't tell her that. She doesn't deserve my darkness in her light.
I'll tell you, though. I'll tell other dear friends, and I'll even tell myself. I won't let the darkness fester in dark corners alone, I'll bring it out into my consciousness, out into the world, where light and love can shine and make it a little less dark when I tuck it away again to celebrate with her.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Night Sky Wedding Quilt
I don't even want to admit how long ago I intended to post this blog - let's just say it's been quite a while! I would have gotten around to it much sooner if I'd been able to access the photos that were meant for this post - it's always something, right?
I first talked about this project in this post. The Night Sky Quilt was a wedding gift for a friend I have known for almost 18 years, and I designed the pattern myself. I didn't want to share pictures of it until after she and her husband opened it, just in case they got back to her, so here they finally are!
I first talked about this project in this post. The Night Sky Quilt was a wedding gift for a friend I have known for almost 18 years, and I designed the pattern myself. I didn't want to share pictures of it until after she and her husband opened it, just in case they got back to her, so here they finally are!
As you can see, I'm still working on finding an easy place to hang quilts for picture-taking. I'm on my tiptoes on a chair behind this queen-size, and you're still missing out on some of the edges!
I have a friend in my fabulous long-arm quilter Lyn. She has done all of the long-arm for my mom and I, and she really truly lets the fabrics speak to her. If you're in East Central MN and looking for a quilter, let me put you in touch with her!
Night Sky is really a simple pattern - with the exception of the stars, it's all squares! I think the hardest part of this pattern was laying it out and then keeping it straight while my dog and nephew were busy trying to get in the way! As you can see here, it has a scrap quilt look to it, but I used mostly fat quarters to give it that feel. This quilt reminded me of a very important lesson - fat quarters do not cut in the same dimensions as a quarter-yard! A few of the fabrics came up a few squares short of what I had so meticulously planned for them. As always in quilting, adapt and overcome!
I hope you love Night Sky! If you have any questions about my design process, measurements, the finished product, or anything, leave me a comment.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Numb
I started my morning off with a cruise through Facebook, like I usually do. I stopped on a specific post, a longer one, because I knew whatever was said by this person would catch in my heart.
"I think when there is no end in sight or no date to return God puts a sort of numbness on me so I don't feel the entire pain of missing him."
I certainly understand that.
The author of the post was talking about the child she hopes to adopt, who is on another continent, and though I'm not adopting, I know that kind of numbness.
I haven't seen my SO in almost two years. I know most people think that's crazy and ridiculous, and I'm not here to justify my relationship to the world. He and I have lives that don't give much right now, and so we struggle to find time to be in the same timezone.
People always say long distance relationships don't work. Sometimes that's true. I've said before, distance is tough. I think one of the hardest things about being away from your loved one is not having all of the little daily reminders of why you love them. He's not there to stop and grab flowers before a date, or pick up your favorite orange juice before you spend the night, or help you rearrange the furniture without complaining. Your love, in a way, has to perpetuate itself.
Being lonely for someone gnaws at you. But when that person is gone every day, it can't gnaw all the time. You can't spend every waking moment pining. You have to have fun, to enjoy days without him, and to be content without him sometimes. It's healthy.
Those moments, though, are when I think people start to question their LDR. "If I'm fine without him, why are we together?"
That question is a liar.
You have to be fine without him. Even if you were married and together every day, you'd have to be okay being separated. If you weren't, that would certainly be a sign of an unhealthy dependence. Surviving and thriving while separated doesn't mean you don't love your partner, it means you love yourself and your relationship enough to be strong, to build toward better things, to work to build a life where you can be together.
Two days ago was my love's birthday. Because of his job, I didn't even get to call him on his birthday. It sucked. I thought all day of how I would celebrate him if we were together. At the same time, I went to work, made dinner for one, and never let myself cry because the last thing I wanted to do on his birthday was bring him down by piling my sadness on top of his.
Being numb is sometimes the only way to cope.
Two days ago was my love's birthday. Because of his job, I didn't even get to call him on his birthday. It sucked. I thought all day of how I would celebrate him if we were together. At the same time, I went to work, made dinner for one, and never let myself cry because the last thing I wanted to do on his birthday was bring him down by piling my sadness on top of his.
Being numb is sometimes the only way to cope.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Trying New Things
Trying new things is generally not my style.
This year, though, I'm trying to focus on a quote from the TV show Blue Bloods:
And last, a new supplement. Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely an advocate of modern medicine, vaccines, and the power of medical science. I do not approve of turning our backs on the power of medicine - the recent measles outbreak is proof enough that medicine is an important part of quality of life. The rise of superbugs and antibiotic resistance is proof enought, though, that sometimes it's better to not have a pill and potion for everything.
So, I'm trying out essential oils. Several acquaintances have been using oils with good results, and I'm willing to see if I can get any relief from my upset stomach and and sinus congestion. My first trial run will be with peppermint, cedarwood, and lemon. We'll see how it goes!
This year, though, I'm trying to focus on a quote from the TV show Blue Bloods:
I have a secure base. It doesn't get much more secure than living in your hometown and working for the company that gave you your first job. Whoever said "you can't go home again" really missed the mark. You can go home again - you just go home changed.
So though I'll admit that what I've been up to lately doesn't really qualify as daring, it is a new year and I'm making some new choices.
First, a new craft. My mom bought me a sock loom (I adore socks) for Christmas 2013, and I am finally giving it a try.
You're looking at the better part of six hours of work.
I had to start over at one point, and I'm doing this at work, but still. Slow going.
This isn't my first experience with loom knitting, but knitting socks is very different. The yarn is extremely fine (I'm currently using a 2 yarn, but most of the patterns call for a 1 weight), so it has a different texture and the finished product grows very slowly.
The yarn I'm using, in Grapes.
Second, a new beverage. I have had tea once in my lifetime, about ten years ago. I can't tell you what kind of tea it was - a coffee shop gave it to me because they were out of what I actually wanted - but I hated it. My friends, on the other hand, are tea lovers, and one of them is hosting a party for a company called Steeped Tea. I love to support a direct sales business person! I'm getting one rooibos tea and one green tea, so we'll see how it goes.
And last, a new supplement. Don't get me wrong, I am absolutely an advocate of modern medicine, vaccines, and the power of medical science. I do not approve of turning our backs on the power of medicine - the recent measles outbreak is proof enough that medicine is an important part of quality of life. The rise of superbugs and antibiotic resistance is proof enought, though, that sometimes it's better to not have a pill and potion for everything.
So, I'm trying out essential oils. Several acquaintances have been using oils with good results, and I'm willing to see if I can get any relief from my upset stomach and and sinus congestion. My first trial run will be with peppermint, cedarwood, and lemon. We'll see how it goes!
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Apps I Love: Envelopes 2
The biggest part of the last year and a half for me, since I finished college, has been getting my financial situation under control. I put myself through private school, so I walked the stage with quite a bit of debt - almost double what the average Minnesota grad has.
Since I also finally got myself a smart phone, I decided to try out budgeting apps. And I tried out a lot of them. I had a general idea of what I wanted, but it was hard to get a firm idea of the important features without trial and error. Plus I had the added difficulty of trying to figure out what features the app actually had - sometimes the descriptions in the App Store are pretty useless.
After trying a half-dozen or so budget apps, I've finally found one that I have stuck with and would recommend called Envelopes 2 by Emdentec Ltd. As far as I know, Envelopes 2 is only available for iOS.
My basic criteria for a budget apps were:
Since I also finally got myself a smart phone, I decided to try out budgeting apps. And I tried out a lot of them. I had a general idea of what I wanted, but it was hard to get a firm idea of the important features without trial and error. Plus I had the added difficulty of trying to figure out what features the app actually had - sometimes the descriptions in the App Store are pretty useless.
After trying a half-dozen or so budget apps, I've finally found one that I have stuck with and would recommend called Envelopes 2 by Emdentec Ltd. As far as I know, Envelopes 2 is only available for iOS.
My basic criteria for a budget apps were:
- Defining my own categories - I live in a small town, so I shop at Walmart a lot. I didn't want the kind of app that automatically drops certain stores into certain categories; sometimes I get groceries at Walmart, other times I get socks.
- The ability to "roll-over" unused funds/overspending from month to month - for big expenses, I save a little every month, and I wanted the app to reflect that.
- No need to connect my bank accounts!
- A free app.
The two biggest obstacles I ran into looking for my budget app were related to my third and fourth criteria. Everyone knows that free apps are generally not full-feature. Several free apps I tried only held so many transactions before you needed to upgrade to the paid version. (I know $0.99 or $1.99 isn't a lot of money, but I am being as frugal as possible to knock down my 50k+ debt. Why should I pay for an app if I can find a free one or I can just do it the old school way?) Other free apps only worked if I connected my banking info, and I'm sorry, but that's just shady to me.
In homage to the "old school way," one of the apps I tried to use for my budget was Apple's Numbers app, which is just a spreadsheet app that happens to have a budget template. Personally, I found Numbers to be clunky and difficult to work with on my iPhone. I think I used it for one month before I gave up.
I have lots of reasons for loving Envelopes 2:
You can have as many envelopes (categories) as you want, and they can be color-coded.
After you set up your envelopes with the specific amount per day, per week, per month, it is only two taps to fill your envelopes.
There are no passwords needed.
You can add a note right to the front of an envelope, which comes in handy if you owe someone money, and add notes to each transaction.
It rolls over the balance from month to month, as long as you don't clear the transactions.
You can empty the transactions from each envelope and start from scratch at the beginning of a new year with just a couple of taps.
Since you can personalize everything, the app is great for people who want to follow the Dave Ramsey system but would rather use a debit card than carry bunches of cash.
If you're considering trying Envelopes 2, here are two things to remember:
Envelopes 2 works great for me. If you try it, let me know what you think!
I have lots of reasons for loving Envelopes 2:
You can have as many envelopes (categories) as you want, and they can be color-coded.
After you set up your envelopes with the specific amount per day, per week, per month, it is only two taps to fill your envelopes.
There are no passwords needed.
You can add a note right to the front of an envelope, which comes in handy if you owe someone money, and add notes to each transaction.
It rolls over the balance from month to month, as long as you don't clear the transactions.
You can empty the transactions from each envelope and start from scratch at the beginning of a new year with just a couple of taps.
Since you can personalize everything, the app is great for people who want to follow the Dave Ramsey system but would rather use a debit card than carry bunches of cash.
If you're considering trying Envelopes 2, here are two things to remember:
- Because there are no passwords/log-ins with this app, it's pretty much centralized to your phone. You and a spouse can't both access the same envelopes on your separate phones.
- This app requires you to manually add transactions. If you can't bring yourself to do that, you probably want to go find one of the apps that you have to connect to your bank accounts.
Envelopes 2 works great for me. If you try it, let me know what you think!
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