A post about starting a new job

Starting a new job is stressful.  After almost 4 years in my previous position, I went into work every day confident I could handle any problem that was thrown my way.  I knew my way around the different web-based systems that I used.  I became prolific in "Rotary-ese".  I did my job well.  Just hated the commute.

I've been at my new job 9 work days.  I feel like a fish out of water, and not the cute one from Chicken Little who wore a helmet filled with water even though we was walking around the planet.  He could still breathe.  I get pockets of air, here or there, but by in large, I'm struggling to breathe.  But I love the commute!

I'm learning a new language.  Actually, I'm learning several new languages all at once.  There's the office product language, the sales language and the web-based entry systems language.  I've taken in so much information in the last 9 days my brain is on overload.  I'm learning how to negotiate the different personalities that I interact with on a daily basis.  I went from an office of one, with one person that I really took my cues from, to an office where I have three-four different people that I ultimately report to, 4 people who report to me and many other who are in and out and around all the time.  It's exhausting.  Seriously, exhausting.

Today was a tough day.  There are many moving pieces that keep this company moving and two major pieces broke down, today, causing a hailstorm of problems.  Plus, we were missing a key team player, which left me struggling to fill in her shoes, not knowing what to do and feeling like I was failing with each step. When the clock struck 5pm, the computers were shut down and the building was emptied within 5 minutes.  I do not joke.  I came home, and collapsed on my bed.  A bottle of Angry Orchard Cinnful Apple, a little Chex Mix, the comfort of mindless TV and a comfy chair and I'm feeling a little more centered and ready to tackle another day.

My hope is that today's problems don't replicate tomorrow, that tomorrow is relatively problem free and that Friday at 5pm comes quickly because I am ready for a weekend break!  I'll get through these challenges.  I'll figure out my place in this new company and one day I will have a handle on all these new languages.  I'm looking forward to that day!

A post about unexpected opportunities

I must be honest, I have been "looking" for a new job for awhile.  It became habit to browse the want ads, every day, to see what was out there and what might be available on "my side" of the hill.  So, when my friend texted me saying, "there's a job opening in my family's company and I think you need to apply", I shouldn't have been surprised.  But I was.

We met, I asked questions, I listened and at the end of the conversation I thought, "Okay, I'll apply but I'm not sure if this job is for me."  A day later an interview was set up.  On a Friday afternoon, I sat down and interviewed for a Customer Care Manager position.  I was glad I had silenced my phone because my friend texted me before I left the building..."call me when the interview is done!".  I called him and said "I can SO do this job!"

I suffered through the weekend and most of Monday in anticipation and then, Monday afternoon, my phone buzzed with a new email...I GOT THE JOB!

Things have been a whirlwind since then.  I gave notice at my over the hill job and have been trying to clean things up as much as possible for whomever might be hired next.  I've been training my current boss on my job duties (yes, there is some irony there) and I've been saying goodbye.

At least once a day I sit and let the tears fall as someone whom I have come to really like and appreciate emails and says goodbye.  The one that got me yesterday was titled "I am sad"...gah!  My eyeballs keep leaking.  I haven't resorted to taping Kleenex under my eyes (ht, MR), but I promise, if I do, photo's will be taken.

A week from Monday, I will jump into an unexpected opportunity.  I'm excited!!!

A post about new-old beginnings and blogs

On my 40th birthday, a friend gave me this wall hanging.

I liked it then but I wasn't ready for it.  Today it has new meaning.  I wasn't ready to grow, reach, heal, to be soulful or vulnerable, to say yes to change, joy and beginnings then, but I am ready now. 

This blog has been in existence for a few years, though I haven't blogged regularly here and only a select few knew it existed.  When I was thinking about transitioning to some place new, I took another look here and thought this, this is the place I want to "be". 

So welcome to my new-to-most-of-you home. 

Two things to note:

Comment moderation has been turned on.  If you want to comment, it won't show up until I approve the comment.  And I reserve the right to publish or not publish comments.

I'll blog just as infrequently as in the past and be the me that has evolved over the last few years.  I have lost some filters but I am always aware of the audience that could potentially read these posts.  If I get political and you don't agree, feel free to skip that blog post.  If I swear, well, that is the real me.

See you somewhere down the road...  

A post about new beginnings

This morning I went to a new-to-me church.  I've been struggling with church attendance for awhile now.  I really like the pastor at the church I've been attending.  I like the people.  I've had a really hard time with the music.  Music, for me, is an essential piece of church worship.  God speaks to me through music.  While I can hear God through both "traditional" and "contemporary" music, I prefer the latter.  Organ music doesn't do much for me, most of the time, and I really, really have a hard time when the music leader feels the need to explain how to worship or the meaning behind every song before allowing the words and music to speak.  I just want to sing...so when I started being intentionally late to church to avoid the music, I knew there was a problem.  A big problem.

A week ago, I went to church for the first time in a month.  I was either out of town or had something happening on Sunday that kept me home the entire Advent season.  We didn't even make it to the Christmas Eve service...side note/question, what happened to the late night Christmas Eve services?  I may have to create my own next year.  So going back to church last Sunday I was ready and hopeful.  I left church knowing it was time to find someplace where my musical soul could be filled again.

Which brings me to today and the new-to-me church.  A former Youth Minister friend is the Pastor of the church.  It meets in a local restaurant, which on Saturday nights and some Sunday afternoons can be frequented by motorcycle groups.  I went alone (which is a big deal), with two simple hopes, to feel welcomed and to begin to find God again through music.  Check and check.

I'm not sure that I'm completely ready to let go of the church I've been attending but I can safely say, I am definitely going back to the new-to-me church again.  The fact that it starts later and is only 10 minutes away from home is a big bonus.  But so was the welcome, the songs that began to wash over my soul and the words spoken that gave me a moment to examine the wounds that are still gaping open in my heart.  Today felt like a new beginning...and that is good. 

A post to my Dad

Dear Dad,

You can come home now.

Mom and I are both done with the quiet, stillness of the house and this new reality.  It's time for you to come home.

Right now I wouldn't even care if you gave me crap about the state of my living space or being a hermit and not getting up and moving when you think I should.  I would welcome your rants on politics and "those people" or climate change and big box stores or...

I keep waiting for my phone to ring and for you to be on the other end, just checking in because it's been so long since we last talked.  I keep waiting for an email with random things about your day to arrive in my inbox because you are away from home and you just need to check in with me.

I didn't realize how much I welcomed your swiveling in your chair when I walked in the front door at night, a smile on your face and a "Hi, Kiddo" ready for me as Rachel Maddow or Jon Stewart blared from the TV, until the last four months when you haven't been there...when I walk in the door to silence and realize, you aren't ever going to be there again.

It sucks.  It hurts.  I miss you so much.  I just want you to come home, for this little corner of the world to be right again...I want my Daddy back.

A post about the spaces in my soul

There's this space in my soul.  It's the space where my secret fears and anxiety lives.  It's the space where I hide my deepest insecurities.  This space usually stays hidden, away from the prying eyes of others...even myself.  Then other times the air in that space becomes thin and suddenly I am gasping for breath, desperate to keep the feelings of inadequacy at bay.

There's this space in my soul.  A place where confidence gathers steam, where I find strength and hope and inspiration.  This place, too, stays hidden until I suddenly burst forth from my quiet, introspective usual shell and stand.my.ground.  At those times the air is violently churning, producing winds of unknown proportion in my soul and I can't let it out fast enough.

These days, I've found a new space in my soul, where grief resides.  Where the pain is so deep, the ache is so profound I wonder when I will next be able to take a breath without air escaping around the lump in my throat.  This place too, stays hidden, until the grief builds up and suddenly shuddering breaths of pain and sorrow escape, usually accompanied by a torrent of tears.

These days, I'm desperately longing for the space in my soul filled with joy to take over again.  For the smile that I wear to be genuine again, not inadequately masking the sadness beneath.  For the bubbles of air to happily flow from within, lightly and carefree.  I don't want this place to be in my soul to be hidden.  I want to let this place shine and yet, right now, it's not the time.  The joy is still there, it's just covered up, muted, with the realities of life as other spaces in my soul take precedent.

Somewhere down the road...

How are you?

*I honestly don't know when this blog was started...probably back in August.  Finishing it tonight...just look for the "*".  That's where I pick up the story.*

"How are you doing?"

I seriously hate that question.  My standard answer is "fine" but it's mostly a lie.  Not fine is a more apt description.  Just coasting is a better description.

I had coffee with a friend a few weeks ago.  We talked about life and our mutual not-fine-ness and I wrote about it on my other blog.  Last week I happened to be driving by the coffee shop, saw his car and decided that is where I wanted to be that day.  So we had coffee again.  One of his first comments to me was, "so you know that blog post"...yeah, I know, I'm really not fine.

Friday I washed the gray out of my hair and had a 2 hour therapy session with my Friend/Hair stylist.  I went into the time knowing I wasn't fine and came out still knowing I wasn't fine but also knowing I wasn't alone in my struggles with life.  Hal-le-frickin-lu-jah.

Why am I saying any of this on blog where people can read it and then worry about my not-fine-ness?  It's not to have people tell me how to be fine, or analyze my problems or tell me they are worrying.  If I was asking for any of that, this post would be on the other blog where more people visit and tend to comment.  No, what I really need is to just say, "out loud", that I am not fine.

*I'm coasting.  I'm putting one foot in front of the other.  I go to work.  I go to work at my other job.  I go to youth group.  I go home.  I try really hard not to expect too much from other people and expect a lot of myself.  I don't hate my job but I don't love it.  I'm tired of the commute.  I'm stressed about money and Christmas and wondering who thought it was okay to have four national holidays in the span of two months (I'm blaming people who are on salary and get paid days off, not someone who gets paid by the hours worked with no paid holidays.)  I'm not fine.  I'm not awful.  I'm in between, in limbo, in a seemingly endless transition to I-don't-know-what-or-where.  I'm decidedly not fine.

But for the record, the next time anyone asks, "How are you?" my response will be, "I'm fine."