Seriously, Jacque?

 

I came across this quote today when I was looking for something else, and I thought about this blog, and how I hadn’t had a lot of time to write in the last couple of months. Even without working since August, I’d found a lot of ways to occupy my time, including school and spending as much time with my family as I could.

It’s an odd time of year. There’s just 20 days left of arguably the worst year of my life. I’ve experienced more in 2013 than a lot of people experience in a generation. I keep hoping at some point, the trial will show me why. I’ll learn the greater purpose of all of this trouble, all of the tears, all of the anger and the frustration. I can’t imagine I’ve gone through this for no reason.

We had our first Thanksgiving without my mother, and while I could feel her absence like an elephant sitting on my chest, it wasn’t as terrible as I thought it would be. I’m not as sure I’ll be able to say the same about Christmas. My mother was a Griswold for Christmas. It was her favorite holiday; her favorite time of the year. At times, I think my mother was probably more excited about Christmas than either my sister or I were. It was her thing.

When my newspaper work took me to Charleston, and later Washington, she didn’t care what holidays I worked as long as I could be home for Christmas. She wanted both of her children sleeping in her house for Christmas. And, now, she isn’t here.

And we have to deal with that. Christmas isn’t canceled because our mother died in March. Just as Thanksgiving wasn’t canceled. Just as her birthday will always be May 2. Just as my parents’ anniversary will always be tomorrow. Despite how much we hurt, the world will not cater to us and stop. Life, for us and everybody around us, will go on. People will go back to work. People will have great days. People will have vacations. People will get married and have children. They’ll do all of those things, and I should, too.

I once told a good friend that the only thing good about 2013 will be December 31. I can’t really say that now. My fortune has started to turn, and things are falling back into line. They’ll never be where they were before. I don’t kid myself. My life will never, ever be the same as it once was. I’m slowly becoming better with that. As cliche as it sounds, I’m adjusting to the “new normal.” I hate that at 34 years old, I know what “the new normal” even is, but I didn’t get to make that decision. Some decisions are not ours to make.

In case I don’t make it back, I hope Christmas treats you well if that’s your thing. If it’s not, I hope you enjoy a slate of bowl games that are enough to make even the heartiest of Vegas bookies squeal with delight. (Including the one I’m ditching in St. Petersburg — Go Bobcats!)

Many years ago, I told my friend Ben that what I really wanted to be when I grew up was to be one of those people who you saw writing all day in a Starbucks.

Be careful what you wish for?

There’s a guy to my left with his laptop doing some writing. Maybe it’s a screenplay. I’m going to tell myself it’s something really exciting and he’s going to be famous because that’s a better story than, “Guy who is like me who’s between jobs and killing that last 45 minutes before class.”

Had a little trouble with last night’s post, but that’s a story for another time. It’s saved to drafts and I think with a couple of tweaks and a little more work, I can fire it up.

OK, what I said about the guy to my left? Forget that. Phone isn’t on vibrate and just blasted at some ear splitting volume a techno-sounding ringtone. Instead of writing a screenplay, I’m just going to presume he’s updating his MySpace page.

The Peters Township Starbucks along Route 19 here in McMurray isn’t the busiest one I’ve been to, really. The one near campus at Southpointe seems to have a lot more people flowing through. It’s just me, Techno, a tattooed police officer, a younger girl in a Pittsburgh Pirates t-shirt and three middle-aged ladies who are sitting in the large comfy chairs up front just quietly reading books. Books. Remember those? Actually made out of paper products? Those were awesome.

It’s otherwise your typical Starbucks, with your typical Starbucks music, typical Starbucks decorations. It’s comfortable. It’s why people like me come here. I know what to expect. I’m not going to be let down or have to worry that what I want isn’t there any more. (Though, to be honest, I’ve taken to rotating my Starbucks locations up here so people don’t look at me and wonder why I’m just posted up at a Starbucks a few hours a day twice a week.)

I was telling Rob yesterday that when I go back to work full time, and man, do I want that to be soon, I’m hopeful that I’m able to find something that has the flexibility my last job had. My last job had a lot of bouncing from meeting to meeting and different projects and sometimes I started my day one place and ended it a hundred miles away. I loved it. Since I’ve been off and I’ve been doing a day or two a week up here and spending time set up quote-unquote working at Starbucks or Panera, I realized how much I love the freedom of it. I’m not sure I’m a rigid schedule person anymore. When I was in the newspaper world, it was a rigid one to an extent — deadlines, after all, are a real thing that happen every day whether you’re prepared or not. Some of my other friends have left media for other desk jobs that are truly that: Desk jobs. They’re at a desk from 8:30 or 9 a.m. until 5, and don’t get outside. I’m not sure I’m programmed that way anymore.

Several times since I’ve been on unplanned vacation, people have told me, “You know, this was maybe fate’s way of telling you that you needed to take a break.” At first, I sort of brushed that off because I couldn’t step outside of myself enough to see what they were talking about. But the months after Mom died really took a toll on me not just mentally and emotionally, but physically, and I’m only just now getting it all straightened out with two different kinds of doctors. I’m starting to feel much, much better physically. That’s a huge deal for me. “I’m fine” only gets you so far. It doesn’t get you out of everything.

It’s kind of fun being the mysterious person writing away in the Starbucks for a while. I’ll take it.

I thought of this Natalie Dee cartoon on the way home tonight. At some point, I became absolutely terrible at using the phone. I think we all have. I hate to talk on the phone anymore. I think it started when I spent the majority of my day communicating, so when I was off the clock, the last thing I wanted to do was answer the phone and talk to anybody.

Today, some toll-free number came up, and predictably, I ignore it.

It was a job recruiter. They were offering me services that we all got that I completely forgot about. So, bonus there. I have my own personal career counselor for three months!

I haven’t started filling out the paperwork yet, but I really hope it has one of those assessments to tell me all sorts of things about myself and maybe what I should do for a living. Sure, there are all kinds of things I know I can do. I can do a whole lot of things that are exactly like what I did the prior two years and eight months (and three days, but who’s counting?), but what if this test tells me that I’m meant to be a high school band director or a cake decorator?

I’m not an ar-teest by any stretch of the imagination. I’m just … creative, I guess. Just tonight I came up with the best worst high school pregnancy prevention promotion ever. (I’ll save that for later.)

But this article did get me thinking.

Why Conformists Are a Key to Successful Innovation

Have I really been going about this all wrong? I know how to conform when it’s necessary, trust me. It isn’t that I’m outwardly a non-conformist. I think it’s just I see things in such an odd, unique way. I don’t see things like the other kids.

Quick hit: Long day. Long. I can’t believe this term for school is just three more weeks. Also, second visit to chiropractor. What do I like? I don’t feel like I’m being sold a bunch of stuff I don’t need. I like getting my back cracked. What don’t I like? I’m not sure I like drinking chlorophyll. But the stomach test didn’t hurt as much today, and when I had dinner before class, I tried the tofu burrito bowl at Moe’s. (Can see Rob staging a bacon intervention this weekend.)

So far, I haven’t derailed: Made it, but just under the wire. Last minute still counts. It’s still day 2. (2/31)