Life in the Middle Lane

When I started my coming out process, I was going through huge life transitions and I was hoping to use some of those transitions to re-invent myself. Finding a woman with whom I wanted to start a relationship with complicated and kick-started my reinvention process. Over the course of 6 months, I quit a job I loved to take a part-time gig, I started graduate school, moved out of my mother’s house (again) and moved into my first apartment with no roommates, started graduate school and fell in love with a woman.

Telling, or deciding who and when to tell has been one of the most anxiety-ridden thing I’ve had to do in regards to my lesbian identity. I had to make decisions about my mom, my siblings, other family members, my friends, acquaintances, church members, co-workers, everyone.  Even the strangers we meet in the streets automatically make judgments or assumptions about our (homo and hetero) relationships, gender and sexuality. I had to decide how I wanted to deal with it all.

In graduate school, I was neither in nor out. I was the queen of DADT.

Of course, there was that one favorite classmate of mine who figured it out almost immediately. I would neither confirm or deny, but for him, the cat was out of the bag.  We shared a wink and a smile, and both went back to whatever conversation we were originally having. I will always love him for that. And it felt good to know that if wasn’t that big of a deal.

In talking about the GF, I simply said my significant other, my partner or the asexual “them”.  However, it didn’t take my closest classmates very long to realize that the only reason a person would use those particular words was if they had something to hide. And I am reminded of a particular raucous, tequila filled night where I slipped up and said her. I hoped that no one noticed.

On Diversity Day we watched a series of skits designed to inform us of all the ways we could look like racist, prejudiced a-holes, even when we don’t mean to be. While I was visibly awkward and disturbed by the display of We Love Everyone –even the Blacks, the Jews, the Homos and Women– propaganda, I was NOT going to use that moment to tell my professors and classmates of my super minority status.

It wasn’t until our second year when a group of us were thinking of renting a house together that I thought, in the spirit of full disclosure, I should come clean.  And with the eight of us standing in a Kroger parking lot discussing the pros and cons of a communal living arrangement, I in full dramatic fashion, proclaimed myself a lesbian. My friends just looked at me with silly grins, as if they A. Needed a warning and B. Didn’t already know.

Even if they didn’t care, I felt good about it.  And I felt good about waiting to share. In entering graduate school, I made a conscious decision not to be the token lesbian. I wanted to be liked and judged on the merits of my character, wittiness, drinking ability, and intellectual prowess, not on the sex of the person with whom that I share my life.

And waiting helped me accomplish that.

It’s been a year since I played hookey from school and watched Barack Obama take the oath of office and move from being that super smooth politico-celebrity to leader of the free world.

It’s been even longer than that since I spent many a Saturday morning in front of the public library trying to convince people to, once they returned their library books, vote early (or simply register to vote and by the way, would they consider voting for Barack Obama and these other politicians that I think are pretty cool.

I was, and still am for the most part, inspired by Barack Obama and his near meteoric rise from Chicago no-name to POTUS. I really didn’t get all the “hope” bullshit, I didn’t believe that what America needed was HOPE—what we needed was someone with at least a little bit of intelligence to get in the White House and do what needed to be done. I FIRMLY stood behind Barack, praying that he really would bring the right kind of change to the States.

And so I have to admit that I’m a little let down.

Not that Barack isn’t doing the best he can. Let’s be for real, America was in trouble WAY before he stepped foot in the Oval Office for the first time. And all this economic crisis, housing bubble, bank bailout crap is still taking center stage. He did not create the shitstorm he’s currently wading through.

But still, dammit, I had an AGENDA! I just KNEW that by this point in the presidency we would have glorious universal healthcare, the wars in Iraq and Afganistan would be over – with all the Jews and Christians and Muslims of the world, sitting together singing Kumbaya. I figured at this point we’d (Barack and I) would start dealing with domestic issues like increasing access to public transportation in our largest metro areas, ending homelessness and increasing affordable housing stock, enhancing high speed internet connections in rural areas, fixing public education, letting gays get married, reversing global warming, perfecting the electric car, and maybe, just maybe, walking on water.

Unfortunately, this economic mega-crisis isn’t the only thing that’s stopping Barack’s and my progress. Why? Because America is still a two party system, and the other party (and fake members of our own party) continue to dig their stupid little feet into the mud, and pout and tantrum and not do ANYTHING productive. They pander and pussyfoot and act all mampy-pampy.

And, bless their hearts, the Repulicans , at this point, are just being spiteful and obstinate. I really don’t think that they have issues with the MERIT of some of Obama’s policies, they just say no as the starting point of their negotiations.

And poor Obama, still trying to be bipartisan. I was flipping the channels on the TV the other day and stopped briefly at MSNBC or CNN or something and saw Obama say something to the effect of “Bipartisanship doesn’t mean me giving into what they want all the time, and them giving in to what I want none of the time.” Meh. It’s a good start I guess.

Wanna know what I think?

-F- bipartisanship.  –F the Democrats. –F the Republicans. –F the PACs and Interest Groups. –F the think tanks and policy wonks.  And while I’m at it, –F Congress and f-ing re-election.

A couple of weeks ago I came across the Iron Law of Oligarchy- which basically says that those in power will do whatever is needed to remain in power. I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve seen this in action during my career, electeds who wuss out and don’t stand up for what’s right just because of the political reality of incumbency.  In DC it’s so much worse, where the stakes are oh so high and the money and power are addictive and intoxicating. Think about all the senators and representatives who have been sitting pretty and all self-important in the houses of Congress for longer than I’ve been born and haven’t accomplished anything useful. If it were up to me, 98% of Congress would be fired.

Policy making along the lines of political ideology, the latest gallup poll, or who’s flashing the biggest wad of money at you is not what’s hot in the streets.

Barack, dear friend that I stood for, campaigning – all day in the cold, wet rain on a lonely day in November – Be the exception to the rule. For the sake of all that is holy, all the newly minted voters that voted, for you, for the first time in their lives, for all the people that gave thanks to God and cried at the end of election night and during your inauguration, and for me, all the times I told some poor schmuck that their vote DOES matter, for all the Americans who you represent, for all the detractors that say you won’t be successful. For all of us, find and use your moral compass. Don’t succumb to the gathering and hoarding of power, don’t listen to the polls or the pundits. Forget about the corporate campaign funders. While we are at it, get rid of all the Clinton pundits on your staff telling you what to do. They are so 90’s anyway.

Barack, you’re a smart guy. I bet you even taught an Ethics class or two when you were an academic. I am confidence that you know right from wrong. Just… do the right thing. Stop worrying about what people will or won’t say. Ignore Fox News.

Make all those new grey hairs on your head worth it. Stop worrying. We trust you to do the right thing. We voted for you, so show us what REAL CHANGE looks like.

Just do the right thing. If that means being a bully to get good policies to pass, do it. If it means alienating folks that you would normally compromise with, do it. If it means calling people out on their asinine-ness, do. Flex your presidential muscle.

We voted for you because we thought you’d do a good job, do the right thing, and make us proud.

Don’t make us look stupid.

My life is riddled with occasions that I did the “right” thing even though it may not have been what I really wanted to do.  These are occasions where I may not have really known what I wanted to do so I did what was suggested. Or times when I didn’t want to disappoint someone who was counting on me.  Or times when I did what I thought would give me the most flexible or practical outcome, even if something else would have been so much more fun or interesting.

If something goes wrong and outcomes are bad, I generally have someone else to blame for these decisions. And I often regret that I forfeited my own decision making power to someone else. At the very least, I kick myself in the ass for not being true to what I want.

Sometimes I just make impulsive, some would say rash, decisions. Those passionate, emotional, little-thought-required decisions are generally the ones that I am the happiest with. In those cases, even when/if I fall on my face, I get up and stand behind whatever decision I made. After all, I either got what I wanted or learned a huge lesson, right?

Some decisions, like my decision to go to Salem College, are a combination of both. My then-boyfriend was already in college in Winston Salem, so it made sense to me (in my 16 year old brain) that I should be looking at colleges in the same town so that we could be together forever. I scoped out the Winston Salem colleges and found two that looked good(Wake Forest University and Salem College).  I applied, was accepted and visited them both.

I visited WFU first and at best, I felt indifferent and at worst, I felt like my soul died a little on that campus.  But when I visited Salem, I felt immediately at home. The other colleges where I was accepted (and there were some good ones) didn’t stand a chance because I made an irrational, emotional decision. Salem was where I belonged, price, location, etc be damned! That decision changed the course of my life (for better and worse). But regardless of my mixed feelings about Salem, I never regretted my decision to attend that school. I went because there was an irrepressible calling here. It was like I was being tugged by something I couldn’t see.

I’m on the verge of making another illogical, emotional; some would probably say stupid, decision to try to be involved with something that I am extremely passionate about. (my true friends could probably guess it in 3 tries, it only took my mother 1) This decision (and what is likely to come out of it) won’t make me rich, likely won’t advance my career, is likely going to cost me money, and is going to make me do something that a few months ago I said I wouldn’t do.

But I’m going to do it anyway because if I woke up tomorrow and found that my uncle would give me money to quit my job, this one thing that I’m about to do- would be something on which I would dedicate large amounts of time and energy.

And damn it, it’s my life and I wanna do it.

But you know what, the longer I think about it (big mistake) the easier it becomes to try to talk myself out of it. Trust me, this decision isn’t practical, it’s a bit of a long shot, and I am nowhere close to having all the details all figured out.  But I’m like a cat, I *tend* to land on my feet. And details aren’t really my thing, they fall into place on their own.

And in this particular case, a wise person told me that they knew it was only a matter of time before I came around to this decision. She told me that my whole life has been in preparation for this moment.

And another wise person said that this particular thing is something that I’ve been talking about repeatedly for the whole time they’ve known me. This person damn near laid out a plan of attack based solely on all the random sh*t I’ve said over the years.

And I have another friend who told me that when I truly KNOW myself and allow me to be me, my purpose would reveal itself. (And I SWEAR she was talking about this.)

So anyway, I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, “What the hell do I want?” And my whole heart says, “This.”

And God help me, I’m going to listen.

A few years ago I was listened to a sermon, and the pastor said something that has stuck with me for years. He said we shouldn’t refer to ourselves as financially “broke” because that suggests that you need to be fixed or that you have a long term problem.  Instead, he says that we should say something like “I currently don’t have any money” or “I’m currently underfunded” or something like that because that suggests that your plight is temporary one.

Over the years, I’ve don’t a pretty good job of being cognizant of the language that I use when I refer to my relationship with money.  And over the years, money and I have developed a pretty decent relationship. While I’ve had an occasional slip up where I’ve run out of money before I’ve run out of month, I correct myself quickly.

That is, until now. For whatever reason, money and I are not on good terms. I get paid and it seems like days later, I’m poor again. I know that this is partly because I spend all my saving in San Francisco, and partly because I was unemployed for almost three months, but those aren’t the only reasons.

The real reasons are that it’s been a long time since I’ve had a real paycheck, and I suck at keeping a budget and I have high class taste and a pauper budget. Sad but totally true.

In graduate school, at the beginning of each semester you get a HUGE check and are tasked with budgeting in a way to make it last the entire semester.  This I could do.  And I always had a least a part-time job which allowed me to buy more beer. Life was awesome.

Before graduate school I lived with my mother.  For most of the time I had a well-paid full time job and a part-time job I did for fun (or for tequila money).    I bought groceries for the house and did most of the cooking in lieu of rent, and I had few expenses.  I even managed to save a bit. Life was awesome.

Before that, I shared a really cheap apartment with one of my former classmates, worked at an extremely low-paying job and hated my life. My only indulgence was my kickboxing membership because after working with 21 screaming first graders every day I needed to hit something every day. I often had to ask my mom to bail me out. That winter I had the flu and missed a week (unpaid) from school. It was a TOUGH year.

So full circle, I’m completely responsible for feeding, clothing, and providing shelter for myself.  Even though I’m splitting the household bills with the GF, taking care of myself is not an easy task. In fact, I f-ing suck at it.

I’m frustrated because I know that I’m making more money now than I’ve ever made in my life but it doesn’t feel like it.  And I’m frustrated because I thought I would be making a LOT more money after graduate school. (Screw the Recession!!)

In August when I got my first paycheck, my instinct was to pay all the bills that were past due over the summer. Bad idea. Basically because I forgot that I needed to pay the rent. D’Oh!  By the second paycheck, I was reeling. How in the world am I supposed to live off this?

So I decided to create a budget.

September was better. I managed not to get any overdraft fees on my checking accounts and I’m under my limits on my credit cards, which is awesome. However, sometimes I look at my budget or my bank accounts and it still says that I have like 2 dollars in the bank. This makes me frustrated and sad. Sometimes I just open up my pretty little excel spreadsheet and stare. Where does all my money go? What expenses can I delete? Do I really need Groceries? Gas? My storage unit?

I don’t want to get a second job at this point in my life. In the past I worked two jobs to stay busy. Now I want to spend my evenings working out, writing, or hanging with the GF, not bussing tables and filling water glasses.

To live the kind of life I want to live, I’m going to need to be resourceful about my revenue streams. And I’m going to have to give something(s) up. Again, balance is important. I need to be responsible with my finances, on the off chance that someone down the line cares about that sort of thing. On the other hand, I want to enjoy my life and my money. I refuse to be a slave to my debt.

So what to do? I probably won’t be able to pay off my credit cards or car loan as quickly as I want. I’m probably going to have to give myself a higher deductible on my car insurance. I may need a forbearance or deferment on my student loans. I’m going to have to store all my junk at home rather than rent a storage unit, and I’m going to have to be a more frugal grocery shopper.

Bottom line, I’m not going to let money rule my life.  We just gotta get back on good speaking terms.

How do you manage your monthly finances?

Lately, I had a lot of time to think about water.  Here in Atlanta, it has been raining almost non-stop for about 15 days.  Yesterday, I walked in the rain for a bit and watched the path of the water flowing down the street. I often left my cube, to see how the rain was affecting traffic patterns. I observed the splashes of water on the roads, I crossed a bridge over the Chattahoochee River, I watched new reports of people drowning.

I love the way the clouds sit between the buildings.

And I started thinking that there was a blog post somewhere in all this observation. I decided to start writing and see where it all lead.

1.  Water takes the path of least resistance, downward. I watched a stream of water flow down one street, hit the curb at corner, turn left and flow down another street.  I wanted to see where it was all going, so I followed it for a bit.  It flowed for a while until it came to another, lower street where it flowed until it found a drain.

2. Water has a one-track mind; when flowing, water goes in only one direction.  In every instance that I observed a flowing body of water, all of it was moving in the same direction.

3. Water is fickle. The least bit of disturbance would cause it to redirect its path.

I love to run around with my camera. I was hoping for a view of the interstate, but it was raining too hard.

4.  Water always finds a way to get where it wants to go. No matter what obstacles are in water’s way, it will go around, through or under them all to continue on it’s journey.

5.  Water has a “mind” of its own.  No matter how many time we whined that we wished it would stop raining, it didn’t stop. No matter how many people cried for their homes and families to be spared the destructive power of the flood, they weren’t. Poor neighborhoods and rich neighborhoods (and everyone in between) was affected by the storm.

I was going to go through and relate each of these water thoughts to life, the job search, being a twenty-something, learning, perseverance, crowd-sourcing or any number of things. Then I decided not to.

What do theye things mean to you? To flow or not.

I wouldn’t necessarily call myself an athlete, but I dabble in sports when I can.  A few years ago I decided to be a runner. I found a group to train with, and started running. We trained from February to June, starting with 30 second run/ 1minute walk, increasing to 1 min run/walk, 2 min run/ 1 minute walk, etc. At first it was relativity easy, and unexpectedly I even found myself running in the front of the pack. As I looked ahead at the training schedule, I tried to predict when I would give up. I figured that somewhere around the 7 minute long run I would die of a heart attack. Again, unexpectedly, I completed the 5 minute run- no problem, 6 minute run- no problem, 7 minute run –no problem, 8 minute- no problem. You get the point. I completed the WHOLE program. I ran a 5k. No sweat.

I mean, I sweated a lot, but I didn’t die like I thought I would.

When I was in college I found a cheap gym that taught ju jit su and muy tai kickboxing. I’ve always been fascinated by martial arts, so I decided to give them a shot. It was love from the beginning.  At the beginning of each lesson, we ran through a series of drills to practice basic moves. Then we would move into learning something new. The majority of each lesson was spent “sparring”.  The whole class would pair up and go at it. (I’ve fought hundred pound ladies, three hundred pound men, and ultimate fighting contestants). I learned quickly that the longer I trained the better I’d be. I’m sure you are thinking, duh, of course training improves skills, but what I mean is, training and improving in martial arts skills has a lot to do with muscle memory.  If I thought about what move to do next, I often would find myself pinned.  But if I let my body take over and do what it remembered from the lessons, I was much more likely to win a match.

I trained in ju jit su and kickboxing for a year, then I moved away and I couldn’t find another cheap gym to train in. I looked into other gyms and even went to a couple of “free” classes. A year or two later, my body still remembered how to protect itself.

And I don’t even have to remind you of my swimming adventure! At first, I thought I would die every time I got into the water.  Over the course of just a few months, I learned to swim on my back and my stomach. Now, in Atlanta, with no money and no pool, I miss the water.  I can’t wait till I get settled in, join a Y and get back to swimming.

Oh, and by the way, when I set a goal for my body, I ALWAYS lose weight. But I don’t even care because when I get into an activity it quickly stops being about losing weight and starts being about having fun and learning a new talent.

This has been a tremendously stressful year with writing the capstone, graduating from school, and looking for my next step.  Every time I’ve gotten bogged down or discouraged about finishing my thesis or this stupid job search the GF sends me a text message reminding me that I ran a 5k (I was training when we met), that I learned to swim (swimming is a goal of her’s too)… and reminds me I should tap into that that same tenacity and control and endurance and persistence to overcome whatever other obstacles (not having a job or having an insane thesis committee or starting a business).

It’s hard, but I’m starting to get the picture. She’s right. If I can control my body enough to do the athletic stuff I’ve done with it, and have the persistence and endurance to keep training even when it hurts or is inconvenient and meet my physical goals (with sweat, no blood or tears) then I should at least display the same persistence and endurance, and most of all, patience when “running after” my professional and personal goals.

I’M BORED. And not just because I’m poor and jobless and I spend my days in the public library sneaking in food and beverages. (I often have the librarians chastise me for eating in the stacks).

I’m bored because I’m tired of living my life the way I’m currently living it.  Apply for Job. Wait for a response. Check my twitter and Google Reader. Repeat.

By the way, this is the last whiny post about how tired I am of being jobless and poor.  I’ll probably still write about the job search, but I promise not be so f-ing whiny. I’M tired of listening to me whine. I’ve got to gain perspective in my life. I need to redefine my goals. I need to seriously think about my life’s direction. I have to get myself together.

I always get excited when I stumble upon a really great person who seems to have taken live by the balls and SQUEEZED. I want to squeeze life by the balls.  I want to use my superpower, dammit.

I wanna DO something.

And then I think about all the things I could and, dammit, SHOULD be doing to fully start working for myself and then I come up with 5 billion reasons why I can’t do all the things I should be doing. And it’s stupid because I’ve done stuff that is way harder…. WTF is my problem?

Hence the “getting myself together” that I spoke of a few sentences ago.

Question 1. Why is it is so hard to move from “starting” to “doing”?

Maybe it’s time for an online to-do list, with you guys (yes, that means you) to keep me accountable, huh?

***

Everyone morning I look at my very beautiful Vision Board and I sigh. It makes me sad to even look at it.

Why? Because I remember the idealistic Monica that carefully and lovingly put the Vision Board together this Spring. (it’s so gosh darn PRETTY!!) And I remember the hot and sweaty Monica, who, this summer, after packing her car to move to Atlanta, scrambled to find a place for said vision board. (I didn’t want to wrinkle or, God forbid, tear any of it)

Now the vision board, my clothes, computer, and 20 books that I couldn’t live without are setting in Atlanta.  I’ve found a prominent place to display it where I can see it often through the day. But all I feel when I look at it is sadness. Not happiness, not joy, not hope, not even pride that I put together something so lovely. I feel sad. And Duped.

I was in a very hopeful state of mind when I put together my vision board. I thought about everything I wanted. (Yes, the words FABULOUS and FAMOUS can be found on my board.  Along with HEALTHY and SAFE and SUCCESSFUL, and my core values) I imagined my dream life ( not so farfetched that it’s unattainable) and I tacked it on my board. I put everything on it. The cities I want to live (no, Atlanta is not on it), the jobs I’ve really want it (and subsequently been rejected for), my business (that I’ve procrastinated starting) and my desire to rule to free world (what? I’ve been planning that one for YEARS)

Every day I look at my vision board with a heavy heart and I want to kick it and hit it and break it into a million little corkboard pieces. The GF says that I should calm down. I’ve only been here for a week, she says. It’s not my fault that all the jobs I’ve interviewed for don’t want to hire anyone until August, she says. Something good will happen, she says. Have a drink, she says.

We disagree on the point of the vison board. She says that the purpose of the vision board is to keep me focused on my goals.  I thought the vision board was to help me manifest my future. Which it ain’t doing.

Question 2. Who is right? Me or the GF?

Question 3. Why is it that everyone else can be optimistic about my future except me?

I had a conversation with my mother today.  She asked me how I was doing.  My new stock answer: Still poor and jobless.

I swear if she’d been in the room with me, she would have smacked me in the head and told me to snap out of it.

Instead, in her best “everything will be ok” voice, she proceeds to tell me that everything will work out. She reiterated the GF, that I’ve only been here for a week, that I’m smart and capable, that God wouldn’t put anything on me that I couldn’t handle.

Then she goes into her “you listen here, missy” voice and tells me that I am not to start doubting, I have to believe in myself. I can’t even use adverbs: maybe, probably, and hopefully can no longer be a part of my vocabulary. Over and over, using different words, she says

Something good is going to happen. I just know it.

I’m trying to believe mama, I’m trying.

Over the past few days I’ve realized that I’m back on my “depression sleep cycle”.  Bed after midnight, sleep til 10am.  Yawn all day….eat junk….mope around.

During the hours when I am, what passes for awake, I trudge from restaurant to restaurant from temp agency to temp agency putting on my happy face, and telling them all why I would be just AWESOME as a hostess, bartender, server, administrative assistant, call center rep……and all I REALLY want to do is cry.

This is not my life.  At least, this is not the life I wanted/dreamed of/expected.  I mean, when I finish writing this post, I’m going down to the local CVS to apply for a job as a cashier.

And to think. I actually WENT to college. TWICE.

At night when I’m waiting (usually in vain) for my eyes to close and sleep to overtake me, I run through my mind all the people I need to email, all the staffing companies I still need to get to, all the cute little restaurants that I should drop by, and ask the Universe, God, whatever you want to call the higher being that keeps the world turning…… When will it end? When will I hit rock bottom?

I am beginning to believe that it is only when I am on the brink of a nervous breakdown, all my optimism is gone, and I have no other options that whatever breakthrough I’m supposed to have will happen.  I’ll have a moment of clarity, and the path I’m supposed to take will be clear, and I’l stop feeling like a fish out of water.

And I think it’s close.

I learned something new about myself as I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, as blog ideas, paper ideas, half finished conversations, life questions and my to-do list swirled through my head.

Some people have muscle tension when their stressed. Some people go blind. Some people get irritable. Some people lose their libido. And some people eat or cry.

I get insomnia. And headaches. And I eat crapily.

As I started thinking about the times that I have had insomnia (and the other symptoms) in the past, I began to see a pattern.

I had insomnia for the entirety of hell year. I would go to bed around 9:30 pm. Lie awake looking at the ceiling, worrying about the bad ass kids I was supposed to teach. Finally, doze off about 3 or 4 am, and wake up at 5:30 to go to work.

At work I would go hide in the teacher’s lounge and cat nap in the bathroom (on the floor) or I would fall asleep during small reading group when the kids would read to me.

After work, I would spend 2 hours at the gym, go home, have dinner, have a couple of glasses of wine, take a sleeping pill (or three) and go to bed.  Then I would start the cycle all over again.

**shudder**

Four years ago, I started a new job, that I loved and for most of my employment there I took children’s Benadryl at night to help me fall asleep.

When I was studying for the GRE and LSAT 2 years ago, all the benadryl in the world couldn’t help me sleep the whole night through.

Every time I go visit the GF in Atlanta, the first night there is always spend restlessly calming down after the 6 hour drive.

You see, Stressd Moni = No Sleep

So a few weeks ago, the headaches started.  I thought it was the holidays. Or the constant NC-GA traveling. Or the crazy weather we were having . Or the GF.

Then I found myself staying awake until 2 am or later.  I thought it was because I was sleeping with the TV on (*cough*, gf’s fault) or because I was working on my capstone, or I was writing or tweeting or because of one thing or another.

But lately, things have gotten worse.   Even when I try to go to sleep “early”, at let’s say 1 am, I still find myself restless and screaming into my pillow.  I usually doze off at about 4 am.

Then morning comes and I drag my aching head out of the bed and into the kitchen, where I find that all I have to eat is canned soup, oatmeal, chocolate cake and popcorn (just slight exaggeration) because I haven’t been to the grocery in weeks.  So I eat chocolate cake (sans milk) for breakfast/lunch and get to work.

And I sit in front of the computer all day.  I’m working on my capstone, which this week means I’m data mining email addresses from downtown development authority websites.   Very tedious and mindless.

So mindless, that hours pass before I realize that all I’ve had to eat all day is chocolate cake. So I go back into the kitchen, get discouraged and eat some popcorn.

And go back to work.

Pathetic, sure. Stressful? Not really.

So what is my problem?

Then I remember my pattern. Not eating well, Not sleeping well, constant headaches.  Hhhmmmm. Sounds like stress.

But Monica, you’re still on vacation, the semester hasn’t even started, and your capstone is coming along. What do you have to be stressed about?

At some point, I’ve learned to live at a high anxiety level.  So, even when things are good, I CREATE stress. Or the perception of stress.  And if there is a little stress, I make it BIGGER. And if there is big stress, then oh boy!

I’m crazy. *sigh*

So, when I realized today that maybe the insomnia and heaviness that I’ve been feeling is stress related and not emotional or hormonal or a symptom of the coming full moon, I started evaluating my life and my stressors.

Know what I found?

Not stress. Not worry. Not really fear.

I found EXCITEMENT.

I am so CRUNK about this semester. My class schedule is amazing!

I have so many IDEAS. A new blog, short story characters, capstone stuff and business ideas have all taken up residence in my brain.

I will be starting a new employment opportunity soon.

I’ve set up lessons with a swim coach!

I bought a book that will help me create healthy meal plans!

I graduate in MAY and will be moving SOMEWHERE fabulous.

I’m finding direction in my life and I’m happy with where it’s going.

Even the things that scare me sh*tless like my classes or my capstone are contributing to the feeling of accomplishment and excitement and you-can do-it ness that I’m feeling.

I’m beginning to believe that stress doesn’t have to be bad. Stress (and it’s alter ego, excitement) can give us energy, and get our adrenaline pumping.

I’m glad I have been able to see that I’m excited (which is good), rather than worried or scared (which would be bad.)  I can use this excitement to get me through the next 6 months and make sure I get all my sh*t done on time.

I should probably stay up until 4 and get everything OUT of my head since I’m going to be awake anyway.

And when my body is ready to calm down, it will.

Check it: I looked into my crystal ball, and I saw that 2009 is going to be awesome (for all of us, but for me especially).

Last year, when I was myspace blogging, I made a big deal about the New Year and setting goals, not resolutions, and blah blah blah. Even this past fall, when the semester started, I took some time to set some goals. (Some of which I have done NOTHING about)

As I’m looking down the barrel to 2009, my brain starts ticking off stuff for the upcoming semester and the year. (Get a job, get my portfolio together, finish my thesis, prepare for a change, spend time with my friends and classmates, start my business, learn to swim, self-host this blog).

But my heart says, Oh, f*ck it. Can’t I just chill out and see what happens?

I’m not saying that goals suck and we shouldn’t make them (maybe I am???) What I mean is – If we really look deep within ourselves we know what the hell we need to do. Do we need to take the next step in our career? Step out on our own? Lose weight? Exercise? Eat healthily? Finally get our teeth cleaned?  Do we need to slow down? Spend more time with our loved ones? Concentrate on self-care? Get a life?

Whatever it is I (and you) need to do, WE ALREADY KNOW WHAT IT IS!!!!!!!!! Duh, it’s probably staring us in the face.

My problem, and I’m sure I’m not the only one, isn’t knowing WHAT I need to do. It’s the doing of it that trips me up.  I get scared or anxious or doubtful or LAZY and I cop out.

And that is unacceptable.

So I’m not going to make a never ending list of new goals or resolutions or whatever you want to call them.

I’m just going to make one.

Do the things I know in my heart I need to do.

No matter how scared I get or how crazy it seems or what other people think.  Some things I just KNOW I’m supposed to do.

So this year, I’m just going to f*cking do what my scattered little brain wants and I’m not going to over think it.

And as I write these words my brain says, but wait, you need to plan, you need to think, you NEED to worry…. and I feel the old self-doubt and anxiety pitter pattering through my chest.

SO I take a deep breath and acknowledge that this sh!t ain’t gonna be easy. But it is necessary. Didn’t Tupac say, “I don’t want it if it’s that easy”?

Otherwise, what would be the point? I believe that is would almost be stupid to add “Complete MPA school” or “Get a job” to my 2009 goals.

Why?

Because those things are not OPTIONAL. They are GOING to happen. It’s a wrap.

But I haven’t always followed my heart (or exercised, for that matter). So I’m going to concentrate to those things that I have let fall by the way side. (ahem, me!!!)

(Aside: I heard somewhere that it takes a month to form a habit. So if I resolve to do the things I know I should, by February I should be good. )

So yeah, the crystal ball said it was going to be a super awesome year.  Can’t you feel it!!!?!?!?!?

Hello! Obama is going to be inaugurated, and W is headed back to Texas. That alone is a major achievement.

And

Recessions are hotbeds for innovation, so even though the economy is sh!t we need this time renew ourselves (like when the forest burns down, then it regrows as a more diverse ecosystem)

And

We get another year to grow and live up to our full potential; proving that we can be better than our former selves.

Yay for us!

Happy New Year, party people!

Tell me what your 2009 goals/resolutions are AND what are you most looking forward to in the OH NINE.