lossed

I'm all lost again, and I was unable to take any action in light thereof, so I gave myself a deadline of the end of March to gain clarity & take action (about 4 weeks). Then, with about 1 week left, I gave myself a 1-week extension to April 6th. Given the impending deadline, I need to spend some focused time contemplating myself and my future self this weekend.

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So I am organizing these three quotes/maxims in one place to keep me from losing further sight of things:

1. It doesn't matter where you are but what you're doing.
2. On moving: wherever you go, there you are. You have to be the panacea you wish to see in the world.
3. Bloom where you're planted.

The first two are courtesy of The Wise Messr. Alexander. The bloom notion is courtesy of Joel Osteen in Your Best Life Now discussing god (apparently), but widely applicable, I think.

The bloom notion elaborated:

I was walking in the woods one day when I came to a big, open field that was full of tall weeds. Everywhere I looked, all I could see were ugly, brown, dried-up weeds. But when I went a little farther down the path, I noticed one beautiful flower standing in the midst of all the weeds. It was so colorful, so vivid and, amazingly, it had blossomed right there in the midst of those drab, dreary weeds. You may live or work around a bunch of weeds, but don't let that stop you from blooming. Realize that your environment does not prevent you from being happy. Some people spend all their time trying to pull up all the weeds. Meanwhile, they miss much of their lives.

the weekend blur

so many things to do, and yet i can't seem to get started on any of them. during the week, i look forward to the weekend, but during the weekend, i can become paralyzed. to characterize the sensation as suicidal would be hyperbole that even i will resist. nevertheless, there is an unyielding strain of misery that runs like a coarse rope beside my superior vena cava, and i am most aware of it during the weekend when i finally pause. its presence has also started to grow increasingly perceptible during the week, which is a problem.

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my roommate introduced me to Flipping Out, a house-flipping show on Bravo that features an insufferable boss not unlike her own. apparently, she and i have similar bosses.

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watching TV is supposed to be an activity of recreation, leisure, and escape, but when i watch this show, the pit in my stomach that i carry around all day at work quickly returns.

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both my sister and i have been interested in flipping houses for some time, and i see it as a money-making endeavor that is an ideal fit for my sensibilities (unlike my current line of work).

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the silver lining that i'm trying to draw around this dark stormy cloud is that based on this television show, it would seem that working in any field can be as stressful and unpleasant as my job is when you have an outrageous boss. so i guess it might not be my industry that's the problem, but rather my job. this gives me hope.

To Do (Long-Run)

There are some things I keep thinking about doing that I cannot forget about. To help me remember to look into them, I'm recording them here.

1. relocating to that beachy area of Thailand that it was said I would enjoy (I think b/c language issues + __?? + low cost of living) - but med care, etc. (Mark)
2. relocating to India (e.g., Banjara Hills) - but how sustain self, not lose mind, etc.?
3. living full-time in an RV - ask Ruthie about boatlife b/c is very similar (small space, community); sewage situation; storage
4. horse as primary means of transport ($200/month to maintain or was it $2k/yr?) (Dead Broke horse farm)
5. commune - but what members + cult problems
6. house of extended family/ies (Tom Cruise allegedly, ancient times)
7. move to Hudson, NY
8. Gozo, Malta

Responsibility, Again

Had my first visitors, per se, this past week. My parents! They stayed 1 week, which is 3 more days than my usual limit. I was sad (as opposed to relieved) to see them go. And in true self-alienating fashion, I got a dash misty per my usual post-2003 emotionality. I took the bus/train back from the airport, which took maybe 2 hours because the NY Marathon required us to take a detour into the Bronx. During this time, my disheveled person slept, brainstormed, and gave thought to my sadness.

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For about 15 minutes I thought it was the dawn of a new era of maturity (read: nasty oldness) in my life, in which I could actually enjoy my parents as people. Then I thought it was instead a reflection of grave immaturity, wanting to forever have the role of daughter/child, rather than self-sufficient adult. With my parents around, I get to assume that role, indulgently and conveniently escaping what feels like the crushing burdens of working life and adulthood. (N.B. I think this is also partly why I turned to my parents after having that bad week at work--desire to re-enter the cocoon of childhood and have the feeling that the realities of my life are not reality at all, but mere dalliances without any real significance). I was going to offer a third theory, but the more I write about the 2nd theory re: the eternal child, the more I think it is spot-on. For posterity's sake, I'll advance the third: it is an indication that I am missing people more than I realize. This is true, I'm sure, and in fact, I think I realize how much I miss people. So that theory can be disposed of quite readily.

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The important nugget to glean is the following: I see now with pristine clarity that what I enjoyed about my parents' visit was their enormous capacity to allow me the freedom to feel unresponsible. As much as I worry about them, they still manage to give me that luxury. Wearing a suit, for example, loses all importance when worn in the presence of my parents. It becomes a silly and unnecessary costume. "All that fuss," as my mom said. The perspective they give me on the idiocy of my job is much-needed and refreshing, but even more precious is the sense that my entire foray into the working world period, with all its misery and obligation, is pure recreation on my part, rather than a necessity. I was sad to see them go and to know that with them went my footloose and fancy-free psyche. Back to adult professional workhorse, for as long as I can stand it.

To Do

Last night was my first night alone in my new apartment. I've often felt lonely in NYC, and so it was familiar and almost comforting to be here and lonely yesterday.

1) go to West Elm store in Chelsea to try to buy a bed

2) figure out a temporary lighting solution

3) unpack work clothes

4) (buy iron if necessary)

5) put boxes into categories

6) go to Ikea this weekend to purchase more permanent lighting solution

Since I couldn't sleep last night, I devoured some recent Trader Joe's acquisitions and did a little bit of unpacking of kitchen-related items. I haven't gotten out of bed yet this morning to see my nocturnal handiwork, but I actually think it might now look even worse than pictured.

I'm going to have to figure out what to do with my precious cast iron pots/pans and other valuable kitchenery--is it indeed time to live alone?