A little “Throwback Thursday” to my life after I moved back to Boston. This is just before I met SHL and started two new jobs, and after kidney stones, being bed-ridden for two months over the summer with a bad back, cortisone shots, and problems with my eye. Written on January 18th, 2008, from my previous blog, Breathing Under Water– Letting Go To Find Myself.
Greetings from the land of one dazed and confused girl. Apparently I’m a chicken and apparently I’ve been running and apparently I have no head to speak of. Talk about all over the place– The last couple of weeks haven’t been that busy, but they’ve been busy enough that I missed a scheduled appointment this morning with my back doctor. Just didn’t show up. I opened up my calendar this morning at 10:17am and there it was, in bright purple: 10am with Dr. Limke. SHIT! I can’t remember the last time that I did something so flaky (Yes I have my flaws but forgetting important doctor’s appointments isn’t one of them!). I suppose considering the fact I’ve been busier than I have in months I am definitely feeling the ramifications of what it’s like to be a real human being again.
I shouldn’t complain, I know: After all, I have been begging the g-d’s above to turn me into a normal human being day after day. And yet here I am, maneuvering the dating world, socializing with friends, traveling, and working my ass off in 2 jobs, and instead of being grateful for the hectic life I am leading, I am, simply put, exhausted.
They say that the busier you are, the more productive you become, but I’m still in the phase of needing 10 hours of sleep just because I have a job! I’m not proud of it, but the truth is, I’ve become one hell of a lazy human being (the more pain you’re in and the more physically inactive you become, the lazier you feel) and now that I’m challenged again it takes an immense amount of effort just to get out of bed in the morning and tackle my to do list.
None of this diminishes the fact that I have a life once again and that I am beyond hopeful that this life will turn into something utterly fabulous (if it isn’t already). Sure, it’s about the journey and not just the destination, but sometimes (come on) don’t we want to get there already?
I myself am often like a little kid on a long car trip, fumbling with my play toys in the back and itching to unwind myself from my seat belt and stretch my damn legs already. “Are we there yet?” my brother and I used to whine to my parents on long car trips, and now I find that my manners are even worse as an adult. Thankfully as a kid my parents were expert at keeping my brother and I entertained… And they always played games with us, even in the car. But now that I am 30 there is nobody to entertain me, or occupy my mind, no big brother sitting next to me to bug, no games to play, no clock to tell us when we will arrive.
So I wander. I wander and I try and I learn and I screw up and I do it all over again the next day. I wonder if someday I will get to where I want to go, and then I wonder if I even know exactly where it is that I want to go.
But it has begun, my life here in Boston. I am finally working, and not just working, but working my ass off. I am challenged and stimulated and I can’t just nod my head and zone out: I have to really pay attention! I have people depending upon me, counting on me, believing in me that I am not the fraud I think I am but that I have some real kind of skill. If they only knew, and I wonder what will happen when I am finally found out. I imagine my world crumbling all around me, left with nothing but an empty bank account and people standing all around me laughing, like in a bad dream or something.
It is around this time of year that I also begin to feel tired and strange and messy and sad, and I know that it will happen like clockwork because my 6th month checkup with my surgeon is in just 10 days.
I am more predictable than I like to think, at least in terms of how I will feel each and every January and July. I do better in between those months, even seeing my oncologist, though the MRI’s don’t really ever get easier. And then, in other ways, I am not who I ever thought I would be; I seem to be having more fun and dating more and being way more open than I ever thought I would be (for example, dating a 24 year old). Life doesn’t always have to be so serious, and it doesn’t always have to be measured with dollar amounts, or who we associate with, or what we decide to do with ourselves in our free time.
And “are we there yet?” can sometimes be the most fascinating question of all: The one that precipitates an opening up of our eyes, the one that tells us to look out the window at the scenery and to take a deep breath… the one that reminds us we are heading somewhere.
Goodbye drinks with friends in NYC in March of 2007, right before I moved to Boston… Now I know there is no “there,” it’s everywhere. It’s you, it’s me, it’s now. XOXO.