For the good of the order, let me set a couple things straight for everyone. This is a blog. MY blog. No one is forcing you to read it. If you find it profane, in poor taste, whiny, poorly written, inappropriate, or some other disdainful thing, please feel free to not read it. Not everyone gets my perspective, my sense of humor, or my proclivity for unearthing the absurdities in my own existence. I accept that, and even embrace it. Diversity is what makes us all unique.
I don’t mean to sound bitchy here, but this space is optional for all of us. No one is tattooing it to your person, or forcing you at gunpoint to read it. Stay or go, I’ll love you either way. Please just understand that I may not be as moved by your criticisms as you’d like me to be.
Now, with that said, a few highlilghts:
As some of you may know, the past year has been one of extreme, exacerbating, and excruciating change for me and some of those around me. My son is now living with his dad in Canby. My daughter is in college. I am living and working in Colorado, due in part to California’s shipwrecked economy. I am re-writing the first draft of my first novel because the computer and flash drive that the manuscript was on have vanished off the face of the earth. Or at least that’s what it seemed like after I accepted what felt like an upending defeat.
I am divorced from the man I’d intended on spending the rest of my life with, having learned, among other things, that he is fervently delighted that I and my “considerable ass” have left the state. I will refrain for the moment from speaking about the cross-application of the term “considerable ass.” Life goes on, whether we want it to or not, in ways we sometimes cannot expect and for which we cannot prepare.
Moving to Colorado was initially just for financial reasons. I wasn’t making it on my own in California, due to the economy, my still unfinished education, and the crush of outside factors converging upon my life’s path.
What I’ve come to understand is that this move has had the positive, but unintended consequences of being cathartic, regenerative, and a real time of personal discovery. I’ve learned that I possess a resilience I didn’t know I had. I have learned that northern California is not the only piece of this nation’s landscape that has woven itself into my very being. I have learned that as terrifying as it is for me to trust people, there are some amazing folks rooting for me, and even going to bat for me.
On February 10th, my Senior Logistician and I loaded up a U-Haul with an assortment of my belongings. After a couple stops in the Central Valley so that he could interview for jobs, The Senior and I headed toward Colorado, via I-80, through the Sierras, all of Nevada, Utah, and a bit of Wyoming, before landing in the Rocky Mountains.
Honestly, that much of life’s experience was rather numbing and overwhelming. New job, moving logistics, emotional good-byes to family, friends, and what has been home for most of my life.
On February 16th, I started a new job with Douglas County Human Services. I am working as a grant and contract administrator. A job I know well, and am enjoying. I work with a great bunch of people. I have an honest-to-goodness office. Not a cubicle, not an officle (word attributed to Melissa Janulewicz), not a desk shoved in a corner somewhere. A four-walls-and-a-door office. And if that weren’t enough, a window with a view.
A view of the Colorado “foothills.” That’s another game changer for me. Being from California, my frame of reference for ‘foothills’ are rolling inclines of 1-2,000 feet that meet with their higher, more mountainous counterparts. In Colorado, because we’re already a mile high, foothills start at about 6,000 feet or so.
Strange juxtaposition. And probably just one of many that I will be sharing with you here. Stay tuned.
No comments:
Post a Comment