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
Showing posts with label strength. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strength. Show all posts
Sunday, July 5, 2015
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.
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Surviving Long Distance
Pinterest is one of my favorite places, certainly. For someone like me, who loves to bake and craft and frequently needs to surf endless funny pictures on my phone in order to fall asleep, Pinterest can be such an interesting place of discovery. And it is a great place for bloggers. You can link your articles there, and with the right keywords, people from across the world may find themselves in your writings.
But sometimes Pinterest (and bloggers) get it wrong.
Stuff about long-distance relationships always comes up on targeted pages for me. It's not a surprise, I've been in an LDR for about 3-1/2 years now, and I read, write, and talk about it a lot. People blog about LDR a lot, which isn't surprising. In the world we live in, where technology connects every corner, where the job market is what you make of it, where finances control so many decisions, a vast number of couples find themselves separated by distance for a least a little while. And what most bloggers want you to believe is that there is some kind of recipe for surviving being apart, because that is what readers are looking for. Couples who suddenly end up launched into the crazy mess of "how do we behave apart?" are looking for answers and methodologies and testimonials that show you exactly how to survive.
That's crap.
All of those articles are basically going to tell you the same things - don't rely on texting, Skype x number of times per month, include each other in decisions, be 100% honest, countdown to the next time you'll see each other, etc., etc. None of these posts understand individuality, though. None of them will tell you how awkward timezone transitions play in, how having a job that isn't M-F 9-5 can totally mess with together time, and how sometimes you just won't have a clue when you will be together again.
I haven't had a phone call from my other half in over a month. We haven't Skyped since 2012. I haven't seen him in about 18 months, and I couldn't even hazard a guess as to when I will see him again. Sometimes we've both told white lies and had to apologize for them. Sometimes we've had misunderstandings and screaming matches and angry silences and had to fight our way back from them. Even with all that, though, we are still 3-1/2 years strong and committed to staying strong. And therein lies the secret. The only thing that will get you through a long-distance relationship is wanting to. It doesn't matter how "good" you are together or what your work/financial life is like or which timezones you inhabit. If you are both committed and connected and try to be there for the other person as best you can, you will make it through to the other side. You will be battered and bruised, yes, but you will be tougher as well.
But sometimes Pinterest (and bloggers) get it wrong.
Stuff about long-distance relationships always comes up on targeted pages for me. It's not a surprise, I've been in an LDR for about 3-1/2 years now, and I read, write, and talk about it a lot. People blog about LDR a lot, which isn't surprising. In the world we live in, where technology connects every corner, where the job market is what you make of it, where finances control so many decisions, a vast number of couples find themselves separated by distance for a least a little while. And what most bloggers want you to believe is that there is some kind of recipe for surviving being apart, because that is what readers are looking for. Couples who suddenly end up launched into the crazy mess of "how do we behave apart?" are looking for answers and methodologies and testimonials that show you exactly how to survive.
That's crap.
All of those articles are basically going to tell you the same things - don't rely on texting, Skype x number of times per month, include each other in decisions, be 100% honest, countdown to the next time you'll see each other, etc., etc. None of these posts understand individuality, though. None of them will tell you how awkward timezone transitions play in, how having a job that isn't M-F 9-5 can totally mess with together time, and how sometimes you just won't have a clue when you will be together again.
I haven't had a phone call from my other half in over a month. We haven't Skyped since 2012. I haven't seen him in about 18 months, and I couldn't even hazard a guess as to when I will see him again. Sometimes we've both told white lies and had to apologize for them. Sometimes we've had misunderstandings and screaming matches and angry silences and had to fight our way back from them. Even with all that, though, we are still 3-1/2 years strong and committed to staying strong. And therein lies the secret. The only thing that will get you through a long-distance relationship is wanting to. It doesn't matter how "good" you are together or what your work/financial life is like or which timezones you inhabit. If you are both committed and connected and try to be there for the other person as best you can, you will make it through to the other side. You will be battered and bruised, yes, but you will be tougher as well.
Stay strong, all you long-distance lovers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)