Travel Planning

I want to spend a month in Europe. The plans are somewhat nebulous - fly to London, meet friends in Prague, fly home. I have dates for the outbound (at least between London and New York), I know what dates to be in Prague. Everything else is still in the etherworld. Today I sat down to book the flights from Portland to New York. I tried several iterations, and still could not bring myself to book the flight.

Partly it is sticker shock. Partly it is denial, I suspect. I can't really be going to Europe for a month. Not really. That would be frivolous, that would be expensive, that would be squandering. Besides - go to Europe for a month ALONE? Who does that? Well, I do. I've done it before. I will probably do it again - after this trip. So what is it about this trip that is bugging me. I suspect it is because I should be spending that time looking for a job. Like I can't do that in Europe - in this day of the Internet and everyone preferring on-line applications (except, of course the Federal Government!) And what if - what if one of those handful of jobs I have already applied for comes through - then what?

What it comes down to is that it is all excuses for being afraid. I will have a grand time. I know it. I always do. When I sit down with my guidebooks and let my brain run free, I am thrilled and excited and happy. I am going to Europe for a month. I am going to Paris and Prague and Frankfurt. Or something like that. Okay - definitely Prague. And Paris. And Eppernay (because that is where Champagne is made). Because I am going to Europe. For a month. I am going.

Bon Bons and Daytime TV

How do people do this? It has been only two weeks and even with a trip, scheduling my days, seeing friends, and planning my trip - oh my. I am caught up on the West Wing. I have played every iteration of solitaire. I have applied for jobs and worked on my resume. And that was Thursday. Argh!

I used to think that it would be so great to not have to work. To be one of the women who shop and lunch and basically have the easy life. I would go to the gym whenever I wanted, I would have time to do the things I really wanted to. It would be idyllic. Except that I haven't gone to the gym yet. I have spent endless time in front of my computer looking at websites for job hunters. I have answered emails and perused job boards and yes, played games.

I have to refine my schedule. I have to find a routine. I have to find something to do with my time! Sigh.

Sunny Days

It was a beautiful day today, the kind of day where the city seems to sparkle. It was warm and wonderful and you could actually believe that spring has arrived. The winter here was particularly harsh - snow like Seattle has not seen in a long time paralyzed the city just before Christmas. Followed by more snow and hail and generally very cold days. All the way up to May. So it was nice to have the sun.

Why talk about the weather? Because today I am somewhat sick of talking about all the stuff that is going on in my head. I have a regular mob in there, yelling at each other, offering advice, chattering away. Telling me what to do, telling me all my shortcomings, trying to buck me up; conflicting voices that are driving me, quite frankly, a little nutty. So I went out and walked today. Walked downtown, wandered about and just didn't think about resumes or cover letters, didn't think about open positions and if I am networking enough.

Thought about where I want to go on my trip for a bit. That was nice. Thought about the story I am writing, and that was good. Talked to a nice couple from Connecticut who had just gotten off a cruise to Alaska. Talked to a Russian gentleman who was lost and trying to find the convention center. Talked to a clerk from San Diego who had just moved here. In short I didn't think about how my life is in flux and how unsettled I feel about it. I didn't think about what was going to happen come August. I didn't think about where to store things or where I am going to live or how long I have to pack things up. It was delightful.

Bragging Rights (and Wrongs)

List 20 accomplishments. Twenty. Accomplishments. Wow -really? That was the assignment from the career coach. No, it will make sense, she assured me. I wasn't worried about making sense. I was worried about twenty accomplishments. Me - twenty accomplishments. I've done some pretty neat things, sure; I've been known to pull off a minor coup or two when the chips were down. But twenty accomplishments? Isn't that bragging? Isn't that rather immodest?

Why is it so hard to talk about what we do right, but incredibly easy to list off 200 things we have done wrong? As I sit here, I can hear those voices - teachers, parents, grandparents - who were so quick to hush me whenever I thought I had done something especially clever, something good, something right. The dry sarcasm, the gentle put downs, even the outright anger that too often met any declaration of a victory. I'm not alone in this. I hear it from friends, I see it in friends; compliments are met with a deflection, greetings are returned with some long suffering reply. "How are you today" is most often answered with "hanging in there" or "not bad for a Monday" as if we are afraid of being happy.

Heck, if we can't even admit to feeling particularly peppy, or that we like our latest hair cut, or that we had fun last weekend how do we ever manage to write a resume? Because that is all about our accomplishments. No wonder it is so hard to find a job for some of us.

The story we tell about ourselves should be be balanced, certainly. But the story of our lives should leave a little room for bragging. A lot of room for bragging, really, because if we did it and did it well, it isn't bragging. It is just the truth.

Looking Backward, Looking Forward

The last two days have been focused on the past and the future. In some ways it is easier to look there then to actually see where I am right now. Because right now I am unemployed and there are so many contingencies around that for me that it is sometimes overwhelming. So I look backward at all the things I have done hoping for some inspiration.

I have been a zookeeper, a travel agent, a political campaign assistant, a retail sales clerk, a copy reader for a newspaper. And then somewhere along the line I became an admin. It wasn't a conscious choice, it just kind of happened. A temp job to get through school became an ad hoc career. When that happened the girl who had been a zookeeper, a travel agent, etc. seemed to disappear. That was the girl who had a lot of dreams about her future, the girl who was going to change the world, or run a zoo, or create really awesome education programs for museums. I have to give her credit, she hung in there for a few years, waving from the back row and even daring to shout out a few ideas now and again. But somewhere along the path she was shown the door (she is still hanging around outside, occasionally pounding on the door, but largely ignored).

Then there is the future tense, daring to dream all those dreams about what to do next. Researcher, policy wonk, corporate communications - writer? It is a bit frightening to dream, though. That, historically, hasn't worked so well for me. Probably because the bouncer who showed the aforementioned zookeeper girl the door does a really good job at hushing the gallery. Dreams? Really? Are you crazy? That's absurd! No good will come of that, move along, move along, nothing to see here...

Thus I stand here at that gate. Looking backward at the times I dared to dare and how much fun it was, wondering where I ever got the gumption to do it all. Looking forward across the chasm that separates me from the future and wondering how I can get over, under, around or otherwise through it. And yet, fearful of letting go of the gate, taking that next step. But I made it this far, I made it to the gate - yes?

"Supposed to's"

In the movie Chocolat, Judi Dench tells her sweet grandson that he shouldn't worry so much about "supposed to's." Ms. Dench plays a fiercely independent woman who, well, dies in the end; albeit on her own terms (fiercely independent women often die in movies, I think it is a cautionary tale - but that is a topic for another post). Even though she comes to a bad end, her advice is pretty sound. I know I spend a lot of time on supposed to, and I wonder if I should.

Right now I am supposed to be looking for a job. I am supposed to be depressed and worried over my future. I am supposed to be willing to do anything as long as it means a paycheck and healthcare coverage. Right now I am also supposed to be re-inventing myself, I am supposed to be taking time off to grieve (presumably for my now dead career), and I am supposed to be thinking about what I REALLY want to do with my life.

Then I get a call from my brother tonight and he reminds me that we are supposed to be true to ourselves. Actually what he said was that we needed to tell ourselves the truth about what we want. Which makes this a "should" instead of a "supposed to." What a difference a few syllables and consonants make, eh? Because the truth is that there are a lot of things I want to be doing - first and foremost is writing. There are a lot of things I never want to do again (like manage someone else's calendar). And the truth is that there is a huge gap that I am not at all sure how to bridge between those two. So instead, I avoid telling myself the truth.

Instead I smile at people and tell them "that sounds interesting, I should look into that" even if I would rather gouge my own eyes out with a toothpick . Because I am supposed to (look into the job, not the eye thing; just want to be clear). And when, miracle of miracle, someone who is supposed to know such things says to me "well, you're a writer" I smile and demur and wonder how the hell she got that notion. Because she's not supposed to. And neither am I. But you know what? The truth is that I should.

Here We Go

Today was the first day of not working. It has been a while since I didn't have a place to go in the morning; a reason to roll out of bed, stagger to the kitchen and make coffee. No rushing out the door, late again; no decision on what to wear today. I am unemployed.

It was a good run, Zymo was a great experience. More than the routine, more than the work, I will miss the camaraderie of the group and the fun, the silliness, the general genial insanity of my coworkers. There were and are some really big brains and very delightful people there. That is what will always stand out for me about my time there.

So now what? Everything I've read, been told, heard, boils down to taking the next step. You have to keep putting one foot in front of the other to get to your destination. So this is going to be about the journey, about the very next step - and then the one after that. Because, after all, what is the point of making the journey if you don't take the time to enjoy the scenery along the way? Each step is a chance to take in a new view, maybe see something from a different vantage point, maybe learn something new, maybe meet a new character.

There are a lot of paths open right now, and I have no lack of volunteer guides. I am confident that there will be missteps, wrong turns, slips, and a lot of looking at maps. Then again, the best trips I have ever taken have always had at least one episode of getting lost. And to be honest, the back roads tend to be more scenic. Here we go.