Thursday, October 15, 2015

Sleepless Milk Wonders

I haven't written in awhile because every time I even think about going to write I envision all the frustrations I'll have with word choice, putting my thoughts into words, and remembering how much energy it takes to right it perfectly.

Screw perfect.

I have a kajillion moments I have recorded in my journal, lots of drafts that are never seen by another eye, and unfinished business with beginning pieces.

I'm over it. And so exhausted.
When I finally feel like I've got a grip on adult life post college with my big kid job something comes flying out of left field and all I want to do is drink good beer pretending the world has stopped spinning for five minutes.

But I'm pretty thankful it doesn't.
All in all, adulting is go-go-go and my to-do list seems to be a never ending battle as I keep pushing some items off for a week and spontaneously going home for a weekend. Visiting home is always relaxing in and of itself but the travel and wear and tear from my copious drinking besties can have me start the work week with a bitter mindset.

With all that being said, the purpose of this blurb is to officially announce that I am slowly but surely turning into my parents.

This last week was a big week in my store as we prepared for a visit from some of our senior management and big wigs from headquarters. Not only is that kiiiiind of a big deal and a great time to learn, network, and show off the store-- its an incredible amount of work since everything has to be perfect.

There is that annoying word again.

Going into the work week our leadership team was on point with communicating and prioritizing to make sure all we needed to do was dot our i's and cross the t's on the big day. Our execution was close to flawless as you could get but it didn't come without some commitment on my day off. All my peers and I rearranged our schedule to prep and still manage work life balance- and on the eve before my normal day off but the day I was going in to support the store, I found myself so excited I had to take melatonin to shut off my brain and sleep. However, when my boyfriend came to bed at 2:08 in the morning he accidently woke my brain back up. I laid there for awhile trying to seep back into dreamland only to find my brain eager to assess my tasks for the day and role play conversations I wanted to have that day. Fed up, I dragged myself out of bed only to find myself snapping back to reality as I put the milk back in the fridge. My consciousness stirred. Did I really just get out of bed and intrinsic bee line it to the milk?

When did I turn into my mom?????!

My mom is notorious for getting up in the middle night, wander downstairs, drink a glass of milk and go back to bed. Zombie status. I don't even know when I started craving milk in the middle of the night but I never could comprehend why MILK was the beverage she craved in the wee hours of the morning but here I was...

Genetics, man!

After I came to my post milk revelation I had another disturbing realization.

The fact that I can't sleep? I'm becoming more like my dad, too.

My dad constantly has issues falling back to sleep once awoken. When I visit home and stay out late he will be able to tell me the next morning the exact time I locked the doors behind me because he was already trying to fall back asleep due to something else keeping him up. Once we wake up. our minds remain in unstoppable go model and sheep sound like a mythological creature.

So the second I got off work about five that following afternoon, I couldn't help but call my dad and proclaim, "When did I turn into you guys?!!"

Welcome to adulthood, yo.



Saturday, April 25, 2015

That's my car, yo!

I've been meaning to write these last couple of months.
I literally have a half written blog post unpublished titled "Life After College." Perhaps the incomplete and lack of postedness is an indication ... I'm still getting my life together.

But for those of you who follow, who care, and are curious... I'm so incredibly happy. The last year of college I felt stuck, partially due to a long distance relationship and also because I took a victory lap in college hahha, and I just kept waiting for my life to begin.

And so it has.
The transition has been immensely challenging for me don't misunderstand. For the first week I would break down in tears over essentially nothing but change emerging around me and I was also not sleeping because I had this paranoid stigma that my car would get broken into or stolen. So when I wasn't crying I was sleeping and since I wasn't sleeping very much... well you get the picture. And now my anxiety about my car seems justified since my car being compromised became real on Thursday. But truth be told... I'm over it. I know everyone deep down inside thinks there shit don't stink but honestly, I'm proud of myself. I remember one of the first pitstops Ian and I took to Seattle from PDX (for the superbowl) we stopped in the sketchy gas station in Yakima and I was not having it. He has been great by the way- completely patient and understanding of my 'bubble' and unreasonable uncontrollable fears- reading my mood before I can. He turns to me, "I think sometimes you're genuinely scared of the general public." Not only was he spot-on, I begged him to find a McDonalds somewhere to use the restroom just because our chances of being shot there are less likely. And so, he obliged and since then I've used his phrase.

I think when I get anxious about my situation I can instantly see a scary movie unfold, very ironic since I don't like scary movies, but that is exactly where my mind goes. Perhaps that is the director/theatre critic in me, but when we were in that gas station I saw faces reflected on the mirrors hanging from the ceiling at their creepy angles. I found myself remembering I left my cell in the car so I was definitely going to be stranded and then panicked when I realized there wasn't even good coverage to duck and take cover. I sped through the scene within a second all while waiting for the restroom to clear up. I know, Leonard Hoffstadter... it is hell inside my head. 

But what I'm getting at is how easily I can envision these over the top moments for a scary movie and freak myself out. And that's exactly what happened on Thursday. Walking up to my car on the street felt like a scary movie....early morning and it was still dark, the street lamp only illuminated parts of the street, I saw glass shattered in the road, saw a familiar beanie by my tire... I was just waiting for the perpetrator to hop out of my backseat with his crowbar and beat me to death. But once I took a breather, made a couple phone calls (which no one answered btw lol), I just said F it, got in my car, and went to work. That's usually not how the scary movie ends.

And now, I'm grateful.

Yes, I really did mean that. Believe me- that surprised me too.
I was proud how quickly I moved to the "sunk cost" stage. I didn't even call the cops- I submitted a report online before I went to bed that night. I even thought through the suspect's stream of consciousness and didn't take pity but yet forgave them. Whoever it was legitimately stole coats from my car. These coats I had washed for our backroom team at work (hadn't been washed in ages) and they were specifically freezer jackets to keep people warm while working in cold areas. All I could think was-- welp, there sure are some cozy warm hobos in downtown Portland now! Since I was two minutes late to work I instantly apologized to the team and told them was happened and the best respond that I keep replaying in my head was, "Well, they probably needed them more than we did..."

On Easter, Ian and I went to a church here in PDX and the Pastor was not only relatable, his sermon was talking about how we lock ourselves in. Why do we lock doors? What are we trying to keep out? What are we protecting? I struggled with this message because ever since I've moved down here I keep thinking about my car, my things, my apartment getting broken into... I'm SO anxious and I've lived in this fear of what is mine I don't want taken from me... But this isn't the way to live. I thought I've accepted the things that I cannot change but perhaps I still can't identify the difference for I've found peace in letting go. Now that my car has been broken into-- one of my worst fears has happened and I am that much stronger and ready for the next struggle I have yet to endure. I don't necessarily want to leave my door wide open saying "take our TV while your at it" but what I own and my things aren't everything to me in this world. My car still runs and I got to work just fine. There are people with less who are also doing just fine.

There's this questionably homeless person on the exit I take to my apartment. One day (ironically coming back from washing the freezer jackets at a laundry mat on Mississippi) I saw the same woman again with his sign saying, "I only need $8 to get yadda yadda yadda" and I pulled out a ten and rolled down my window. Since that day, I've now seen her almost every day, same spot, same time, same sign. Not going to lie, I felt idiotic and kind of wanted to point honk my horn and say LIAR! but I didn't, because there's more important things to focus on. Now, after my car was broken into, I had the uneasiness of what if she was wearing one of my freezer jackets from my car. Or if I ran into anyone on the street where I live wearing one of those jackets! I felt the anxiousness seep in but it quickly surpassed as I realized how I would intrinsically act. I would pull out another ten, roll down my window again, and tell her that I recognize that jacket but I forgive her.

Forgiveness doesn't excuse their behaviors. Forgiveness keeps them from destroying your heart.

Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And most importantly, don't do drugs. I've got this running suspicion that a good chunk of this demographic are where they were because of addictions. Maybe I'm wrong- but I haven't found a research paper on it yet.