Work, Work, Work

I did it! It had been a while, 7 months to be exact, but it hardly hurt at all. 

Obviously, when I left my job in NYC, I knew I'd have to find another one eventually. Well, I knew it when I wasn't fantasizing about a giant check being dropped into my lap from the money fairy. Or pretending I was going to discover a long forgotten trust fund. Any day now. Or at least a great big bank error. While I'm waiting around for one of those things to happen, I might as well keep myself busy with work.

The truth is, it wasn't so bad. Strange, to be sure, since I'd been doing the same thing, with the same people for so long, but way less than terrible. I did feel a little rusty, but it all comes back rather quickly when you're plunked into the middle of things.

And the thought of the numbers in my bank account going up and the numbers attached to my debt going down is a big relief. While it make not actually make the world go round, money does affect one's stress level in a big way. No matter how much I wish it weren't true.

Not Fair

Like a toddler, apparently I can't handle having too many choices. When it comes to boys, I'm used to them making the decisions for me. If I don't like him, it's easy to just ignore him. If I do, it can go two ways: he likes me too and we move forward or he doesn't and I never hear from him again. It's a pretty efficient system. 

Why, oh why, then has the universe chosen to screw with me by throwing too many options my way? How do I make sure I'm doing the right thing, making the correct choice? A selection of jobs would have been nice. And easy, for that matter. But too many suitable suitors? Not fair.

Speaking Of That Interview...

Obviously, I provided the interviewer with my references. And all three were people I knew would speak well of me. Duh. But only 2 of them were people I'd warned about receiving a call. Both were eager to help and both got back to me after they'd been contacted to let me know the calls had gone well.

The third is more complicated. My best reference, to be sure, but the one about which I was most nervous. Probably why I avoided the warning. When the woman conducting the interview informed me she'd spoken to all of my references, all I could do was wonder what had been said. Never did I imagine this person's report would be less than positive, but I wanted the actual words. And I spent much of the interview wondering about them. I'm still wondering. 

Wouldn't it be fantastic if everyone would just say what they're thinking? Positive reinforcement shouldn't end with adolescence. It would make my day to hear the kind words that were said ABOUT me, spoken TO me. This experience is making me try even harder to let the people in my life know I love them and think the world of them. Some of them actually get uncomfortable with this sort of acknowledgement. That just means they don't hear it enough. Most of us don't.

What A Difference A Week Makes

At this time last week, I was feeling pretty crappy. Lonely and hopeless and just blah. Of course a portion of that crappiness was due to pms, just like it is every month (curse, indeed!) but there was more to it. A long string of dates that went nowhere, fruitless job searching and a lingering injury were the major culprits. Here's what happened to turn those things around:

1) A silly little trip on a couple of steps in Harvard Square (6 weeks ago!) left me with a damaged ankle which is still bothering me and I likely would have had x-rayed right away if I were insured. Although, several years ago, I was convinced I had a broken ankle and it turned out to be only a sprain. A sprain that bothered me for months. This injury has kept me from my daily walks, often the only time I get out of the house during the day and it has been a pain in the ass. While it's certainly not 100%, I'm trying to not let it stop me from getting out more often.

2) That interview I mentioned went smoothly, as expected and I've been called about working. While I'm less than thrilled at the prospect, I AM looking forward to being busier and not broke. And who knows? Maybe I'll like it more than I think I will. Uh huh.

3) After hitting a two-week lull on the dating website (read: ran through all the good prospects), suddenly new guys were popping up and I had dates with 4 of them last week. I was busy, had fun with each of them and heard back from 3. Decent batting average, if I do say so myself.

Another Quickie

How can I, at my age (36!) still scare myself silly? Yesterday, I made the idiotic mistake of watching a scary movie ("The Collector"-don't bother). I assumed it would be fine because I was watching during the day, D was in the house with me and she would be staying the night. Wrong.

While I got through last night fairly well, tonight (it's just past 2am), as I was finishing up a phone call with C and brushing my teeth as he regaled me with less-than-thrilling revelations from the new Oprah biography, I started to realize it was almost time for me to get to bed. Alone in the house. In the dark. With memories of The Collector (spoiler: it's the exterminator!) in my head. 

I thought of trying to keep C on the line until I fell asleep, but he was near exhaustion. And so, I'll be lying here, attempting to think of rainbows and blueberry muffins hoping I get enough sleep to keep myself from looking like a zombie for tomorrow's interview. But I will do so with the television running. And the lights on. And a baseball bat under the bed.

Hmmm

I realized as I was posting that last bit that I was IMing a friend, watching "Celebrity Apprentice" (go Cyndi!), texting my cousin and eating my dinner all at the same time. No wonder it's hard to listen to one voice, coming from one person; I'm so used to the bombardment of stimuli. Modern life? Too much city living? ADD?

So, the bigger lesson, perhaps is learning how to focus my attention on one thing at a time. Why is this so difficult? Any ideas? And don't suggest giving up "CA", not while Cyndi's still kickin'.

And yes, this counts.

Are You Listening?

Because sometimes, I'm not. I may be daydreaming, stuck on the thing you said three things ago or trying to list the states in alphabetical order. I will LOOK like I'm paying attention, but that's not always the case. Obviously, this is something about which I've become aware. And as such, something I'm working on improving. Not improving my fake listening, but ACTUALLY listening.  

So, it was exciting when a visit to my local Buddhist prayer meeting included a lesson on "deep listening". We were to ask a partner an open-ended question and listen to her answer for five minutes. And not say anything. And I did. I listened. Deeply. Except for the part where I got distracted by thinking about the fact that I was really listening. But that only lasted for a few seconds. 

And the big accomplishment, in my mind anyway, came when the tables were turned and I was the answerer. Before we'd started the exercise, I had informed my partner (a woman I'd just met) that I was much more the talker than the listener. But when it was my turn to talk, those five minutes seemed to drag on soooo long. I even stopped in the middle to say "my five minutes are much longer than yours!". She didn't agree. The point, I think, is that it was easier for me to listen than to be listened to. In this instance, anyway. Should that make me proud? Because it does! 

In closing, I'm sure YOU were not the object of my faux listening, but now you know for sure that all my attention will be focused on you. Or at least that thing you said three things ago.