Coming Home

I've been thinking a lot about how I don't write anymore. (...or I guess I should say, how I haven't written in so long since I am definitely writing at this very moment.) I have thought about it so much and how much I miss the feeling of finishing a simple blog or article when everything feels like it makes more sense and I can be proud of what I have been able to put into words.

Today I found myself venting to my husband again about how I feel I've lost my creative spark and it occurred to me how ironic my reasoning was. I used to write because I wanted to go to New York and the very thought of that inspired me to put words together. What I told my husband today was that I haven't written because I'm afraid that inspiration is gone and now that we are hoping to get back to New York, I don't know how I will make myself write something when I can't find the inspiration again. (Whatever will I do?) But if what inspired me in the first place was just the prospect of living in New York, would not the actual experience of living there be ten times more powerful as inspiration goes?

I began to think about the short amount of time last year when I was able to go to New York for school and I began to draw out all of those old feelings again. I remember just the way it felt to fly into the city after the sun had gone down and the blackness of the night sky had taken up residence behind the city skyline. It was like arriving in a new world--it was nothing like home and just flying by those sparkling skyscrapers brought tears to my eyes. In many ways, it was just as I had imagined my flight back in would be, but it somehow also overwhelmed me in a way I hadn't expected. I had arrived. I had been writing about this place for two years and I was finally there.

New York is like no other place. One of my favorite things about it is the fact that it has inspired so many people over the years. Say what you will about cold, heartless city life, but I can still remember all the moments I had there that felt so intimate, so extraordinary... and many of them were just between the city and me. I remember how I loved to find the Chrysler Building from wherever I was in the city and how just the fact that I could find it in the skyline made me feel like I hadn't gone too far even if I was neighborhoods away from where I started. I remember walking for blocks with my head tilted upward to experience that sort of vertigo you get from walking while looking up at the tall buildings beside you. I remember taking the train in every morning and out every night and always making sure to get a glimpse of the skyline as it approached or faded away. It is the same feeling I get when I look into my husband's eyes: hope, love, promise, elation, that feeling that everything is right even if it is just for that moment.

Monday Morning Blues

When you work where I do during the week, Monday morning can only be described as “extra-sucky.” Not only am I very far from being a morning person in general, but I also don’t particularly enjoy my full time office job. I come to work each day waiting for it to end. I hate how negative this makes me sound, but it really is true. This is what happens when you throw a bubbly little dreamer into an office framed with black clouds.


Yes, I need to be grateful that I have a job right now—but no, I won’t stay here long. I am a firm believer in the principles of a high quality of life. I believe that it is healthy and expected of a person to work—and work hard. I just don’t believe a person should be expected to spend the majority of their life in an office where they are miserable. No one should be miserable because everyone has a choice not to be. It just depends on how hard a person is willing to work.


This principle can easily be applied to my dream of moving to New York City. I have the choice to stay in Southern California and wonder how my life would have turned out or go take the plunge and see how it is. Fortunately, I am just about as driven and passionate as they come, so I have chosen to work hard for the life I want.


Updates on the job situation will come soon…

Check Marks the Spot

My last shred of self-control is barely hanging on for dear life while the rest of me is begging to bust out the scissors. The New Yorker inside of me is telling me it's okay to explode. The smell of coffee wafts through my mind as a reminder of what I want; I won't let up until I get it.


Sometimes it is better to push until things go your way than to sit and wait while you are trampled. I may not be the boss at either of my jobs, but I feel that I deserve respect for the amount of work I contribute to each company. On the weekends, I enjoy working so much that it almost doesn't feel like work at all, but so far at this new job during the week I feel like I am fighting my way through each day. Now, there is nothing wrong with working hard and clawing your way to your goals, but there is no point in putting in that kind of effort when you are not compensated for it in a timely manner.


The first of the month looms near and I am broke. I owe my Dad money for my cell phone and insurance, I owe it to my credit score to pay off that stupid card before it goes into interest, I will most likely owe the mechanic money to fix my car (if they ever figure out what is happening to it), and--most importantly--I owe my savings account a sizable deposit. Not to mention that this month is Christmas and I have not even started my shopping.


At this point, I feel that I have put forth enough effort in rectifying this situation as is reasonable, yet I am not content to sit back as I am screwed at every turn.

Lost in the Fog of my Thoughts

Although it has previously seemed much easier for me to identify what I want in life, at this moment it seems like it is definitely clear what I don't want. The long hours involved in working two jobs seven days a week have taken their toll and all that is left of me is a shell. At times I feel somewhat sucked of my spirit and drive and wonder if it is really worth the paychecks to push myself so hard. It is very clear to me that I don't want to work at either of these jobs for the rest of my life. I don't want to be stuck doing things that I'm not passionate about. I don't want to put in countless hours and be pushed everyday to do more and more tasks that in no way feasibly fit into one day.


The amount of push might be surprising enough, but what is more surprising to me is the amount of negativity. When I arrived here a few weeks ago, I was easily recognizable as the only ball of sunshine left in the place. I immediately noticed the surplus of raised voices coupled with a feeling of urgency so thick that you could almost see it hanging in the office air. Everyday I walk in at 8am and wonder why I'm here, knowing that I don't belong.


It takes a certain type of person to handle an office job like this and I'm a little unsure I fit the mold. Yes, I'm driven and I get along with many different types of people, but my sense of independence seems to be what is getting in my way. I may take direction and work to complete my large task lists, but I don't do well when I feel someone is disrespecting me or belittling me. Don't get me wrong, I have already made many friends in this office and they are certainly very strong people, but I will never be able to take what they take lying down. My personality obviously gets in the way to the point where something will eventually have to give.


I'm unsure what I should do with these thoughts, but I guess for now I will just internalize them. I can only hope I will make the right decisions and eventually reach my goals.