I've been collecting pictures for a post on what our neighborhood is like. Trying to find words for how I feel living here, but it's not coming easily and so I haven't known what to say. It's easy to write when life is full of events, much harder when it feels small and quite ordinary.
Dooce, Finslippy and Waiterrant are able to write about small events in a way that makes one care, or at least laugh, but I'm finding it hard to figure out a way to make furniture assembly at all exciting.
I haven't become aggressive in the job hunt and am frankly feeling discouraged and tired when I think about climbing up that hill. I found this apartment because I was proactive and went on a driving expedition. I know that finding a job is similar, I need to be networking, lunching, getting to know people. I definitely need to get busy with that, not just for the sake of our finances, but because I'm getting bored. Honestly, how do the idle rich survive? Go and sit at a club? Go shopping? Take up needlepoint or still-life painting? It's a weird thing to complain about, but knowing that all I have to do in a day is send out emails, make a couple phone calls and read a book, is beginning to pall. (I can feel waves of sympathy coming toward me. The way you're all feeling my pain means so much, really.)
It's making me think about life. What gives it meaning? Where do I find my worth? As a designer, ultimately I just make garbage. No matter how award-winning a brochure, invitation, or annual report is, it gets tossed. Since Mom's death, I've known that relationships matter more than any job, but I've yet to form any new ones here. So I walk my dog. I tweak our living space. I email prospective jobs. Sure I'm spending some time with God and that's been good, but it's weird not to have momentum toward a specific purpose in those times. Has my meaning been based in how busy I am?
It's easy to think that if I had a kid there would be more meaning, but these long days in an empty house are making me think about that differently. What if this was all I had PLUS a baby? I couldn't go for long rambling walks, or window shopping excursions. Couldn't spend hours on the phone. Couldn't easily go out with the couple friends I have here. Couldn't go to San Francisco on 12 hours notice to meet my cousin. I know life would just be different and I would adjust, but yikes! (Again, my apologies to all you Moms and Dads out there--it's a weird thing to complain about)
In any case, this post feels weirdly whiny and 'poor me' and I hate being like that. Just letting you know why it's been hard to figure out something 'bloggable'.