Couldn't think of a cool title…

September 11, 2011

Coming back here, for awhile?

Filed under: Memories, Personal — me @ 6:19 pm

I remembered that I had written this post on this day five years ago so I went back to re-read it and was kind of surprised to see that the last thing I had posted was just after Christmas this year. Things were just beginning. It’s funny how months can go by and people feel like nothing ever happens to them, and then sometimes a week happens that changes you forever. Today I also read this beautiful article from Colin MacEnroe and thought today is as good a day as any to engage in that exercise. What has happened to me in 10 years?

Ten years ago I had been living in my first apartment for about six months. I was just learning to balance bills and was living a starving artist freelance lifestyle. I was excited to be getting work as a teaching artist and doing a lot of overhire electrics in local theatres. I had been living off savings, more or less, for some time then and the challenge of paying bills, especially student loans, was probably starting to catch up to me. Today I have a lot more financial stability but still go through periods (like this week) when I live far closer to the edge than I would like. I moved out of that apartment five years later, to where I am now. Today I struggle with loving the place I live in but knowing I need to leave. I took classes to become a foster parent last year. Things got put off a bit during the difficult months after my last post here– in an ironic climax I spent about a week wondering with great seriousness if I was going to need to take custody, unofficially or officially, of BestNieceEver. Instead I ended up taking her every weekend for 3 1/2 months, with great support from some friends and not-terribly great support from some members of my family. It all also resulted in a painful conversation with my landlord that hit the nail in the coffin that, foster care or no, it’s time to move on. It’s just taking me longer than I would like to make it happen.

If you had asked me then what I most wanted to do I would probably have said direct. Today I want to direct, with my whole heart, but I want to have the income to finance my future a bit more. Mainly I continue to want to be a part of the field I love, and contribute as much as I can. Ten years ago I might have jumped at the chance to take my Old Job. Today I look back on the 3 1/2 years I had there fondly but know it was better to have moved on.

Ten years ago I was trying out yahoo personals and going on a date every now and then. Today yahoo has gotten out of the personal ad game but I still belong to eHarmony. I struggle with whether to continue to spend money on a service I only sporadically use, but I feel just as terminally single today as I did then, and after over 10 years, on and off, of therapy, I’m pretty frustrated that this issue has not gone away.

Ten years ago I was in lust with a man. He had a girlfriend at the time. They broke up for awhile but are now married and have a baby girl. My lust has not gone away, it just– is what it is.

Ten years ago I had a CD case full of music in my car. It was 98% music that either I had found because of shows I was in or BestFriendfromHighSchool had introduced me to. My car, and all the CDs was stolen in 2002 and until recently didn’t listen to much new music at all. Only in the past year has music been a major part of my life.

Ten years ago I didn’t belong to a church. I had church shopped a little bit and felt like I wanted to belong somewhere but everything with my friend’s death and all that made me very cautious about where to go. Today I went to the annual picnic for the church I’ve attended for 9 years.

Ten years ago I was starting a long process of getting off of antidepressants. Today I’ve been back on them for almost six years, and the Doc says it’s likely I won’t go off of them again.

There have been many funerals, some of which have reached down inside me to the point that I thought my head would never feel screwed on properly again. Too many taken too soon.

There were some births, the most touching to me, of course, being BestNieceEver, my 29th birthday present. I’ve honestly never loved anyone more.

Ten years ago, my relationship with my family held me back from fully realizing my dreams– although I would never have been able to articulate it that way. Today, things are better. But not as better as they ought to be.

Ten years ago I think I would have hoped that by now I would have it all figured out. Today I wonder if it’s possible ten years from now I could even hope to.






December 27, 2010

wandering back to a blog is helpful in times of powerlessness

Filed under: Best Niece Ever, Melancholy, Personal, Sister — me @ 2:57 pm

So my Brother in Law is in the hospital. The doctors told Sister last night that he was “300% drunk” and wouldn’t be sober until this morning. The last I was told is he would be there until Wednesday. That’s really all I know. BestNieceEver is with my parents, who are reeling from the news in a denial ridden helpless way. It’s happening.

I’m relieved in a way, that a light is being shined on something I’ve ached over for 5 years. The pain my family is struggling with now, and has struggled with thus far, continues to weigh on me. I don’t know what will happen next. I’ve spent a lot of today hiding, watching Scrubs on Youtube and pacing. Crying and then feeling numb, lonely. It’s a dark and scary time, I’m just hoping that when it is all over there will be light and blessings for those who are so dear to my heart.

March 8, 2010

20 years ago yesterday

Filed under: Memories, Personal, Sister — me @ 10:49 pm

I started menstruating. I was not happy about it. I cried that whole night and stayed home from school the next day grieving over it. How dare my body defy me by growing up against my wishes?

Twenty years is a L-O-N-G time. I think if I could change one thing, it would be to have someone find out why that little girl was so determined to stay little and coax her out of the notion, if possible. If I could change two things, it would be that my parents had found a community of their own to help them navigate the strange world of parenting teenagers. And if I could change three things it would be that Sister would have found her way into a therapist’s office somewhere along the way.

How did you feel about growing up twenty years ago? Are there things you would change if you could?

October 5, 2009

Awkward Interaction

Filed under: Personal, Talks with the Doc — me @ 8:39 pm

Ran into the Doc at the library today. I thought I recognized her, and then I knew I did, and then our eyes met and I didn’t know whether to say hi or not, and she stared past me and kept walking. Protecting my confidentiality is nice– and professional, but it’s also weird. Weird for me anyway, pretending not to know someone who knows a variety of details about my first experiences with intimacy and my true feelings about people I’m forced to be polite to. And weird in that way I used to feel as a kid when I saw my second grade teacher in the grocery store– “what? you have a life beyond that building I always see you in?”

It’s funny, because when I think about it I realize there are these little bits of things I do know about the Doc. I imagine it’s common to wonder about someone you regularly reveal your innermost thoughts to, and at the same time of course it’s reasonable not to have access to much about them at all. I know she went to school in Missouri and Connecticut because that’s what the diplomas on her wall say. I know she has at least two kids and that they go to schools in different districts for some reason because it complicates her availability for appointments around the time of spring vacations. I know she worked professionally with someone at my undergraduate school and that she knew my old neighbor, because he’s the one who recommended me to her in the first place, ten (!) years ago. I know she’s married, as she wears a wedding ring. I know she went from working in a business run by someone else when I first started going to her, to co-owning a business with other people now– because where she used to work a receptionist took care of billing and scheduling and now it’s all handled directly by her. And apparently she lives near enough by me to have reason to go to the public library in my town. And that’s about it.

It’s interesting to me that I found this chance meeting of non-interaction so awkward, because often when I see people I vaguely know in public settings I have an impulse to avoid them, a sense that I don’t want to be forced into smalltalk maybe? Or just a sense that running into someone makes me feel the need to be “on,” to entertain them on some level, to be worth talking/listening to. So in a funny way sometimes I see people and almost wish they would pretend not to see me. Sometimes too much of my life is a game of trying not to risk feeling too uncomfortable.

September 3, 2009

Job Lost Made for a Crummy Week

Filed under: Business, Melancholy, Personal, Talks with the Doc — me @ 10:10 pm

Kind of had an up and down week this week professionally. I applied to teach at my old high school and didn’t get the job, and I REALLY should have. I know the teachers they have there and I know what I’m capable of, and more importantly, I know how my credentials stack up by comparison. I also know that two people who left positions there specifically told him that I would be their first choice to take over their classes. So that leaves the interview as the apparent dealbreaker. I was interviewed by someone whose known me since I was 14 or so. Did that make me approach the interview too casually? Perhaps, or perhaps the fact that a LONG list of people were assuring me I would get the job so that made me complacent. (In my defense, the person interviewing me was barefoot at the time. Not exactly a cue for formality. But that’s petty I suppose.) My “spies” on the inside tell me that the only clue as to why I was not hired was a comment that I was “too vague” with my ideas. I’ve been feeling hurt, angry, frustrated, and sad about this all week. I originally made contact about the job early in the summer but the interview wasn’t until August. I did not get any notice whatsoever after the interview, only knowing I didn’t get the job because school started. I’m upset because I deserved at least the professional courtesy of notice, as there were other positions I did not apply for because I was unclear if I was still under consideration. Obviously this adds to the financial strain inherent in my starving artist lifestyle at the moment. But more than that I thought that the relationship I had with this person was such that if I didn’t get the gig and it really came down to a problem with my interview or something, that he would give me some feedback– “Look, we decided to go in a different direction, but I thought you should know…”– something.

So I’m annoyed with him because I feel strongly that he’s come to incorrect conclusions about my abilities, and I’m even more annoyed with myself– because somehow after all this time knowing me he wouldn’t think I would be good for his program. I know most of the people who encounter this blog at all will know that this isn’t a matter of my ego or something– this was a job that I was more than qualified to do, at a time when they REALLY need well-qualified people due to the particular mix of students they have  this year. So it’s all well and good for me to say “Fuck him,” — but if under these circumstances he didn’t see my potential then I really didn’t demonstrate it to him. And if someone who’s known me as long as he has doesn’t see that, how am I perceived by people who are just meeting me?

Interviewing is a skill, and maybe it’s one I need to work on. But more than that, I think I stumble a lot in putting myself  “out there.” I remember several years ago some work I did for a company got my name in the paper. And the head of the company, where I’d been working for three years, came down the stairs one day and said, “I saw that article. I didn’t know you were looking for a career in this. We should talk about that.” And it occurred to me how ridiculous that was– that I’d been working there three years, in and around this man who had a lot of connections that could be beneficial to my career– and he had NO IDEA that I had any particular aspirations of interest. There are a lot of people in my life, people I daresay have less to offer the field than I do, who would never have let something like that happen. And it’s all well and good to complain that “nobody notices me,” but what have I done lately to get noticed?

April 25, 2009

Because I’m Out of Practice on the Whole Blogging thing…

Filed under: Personal, Talks with the Doc — me @ 12:15 am

I’m writing even though I’m not really sure what I have to say.

It’s been a weird time in Seeing-the-Doctor-land. I’m on COBRA thru my old job but it’s stupidly expensive so I tried to apply for a cheaper self-employment health insurance and was rejected — on the grounds that I’ve seen a psychiatrist and taken an antidepressant. Apparently people who go to health care providers and follow their advice can’t get health care. Looking into my other options but Holy Frustration. In other news the Doctor was encouraging me to look into a group therapy option in addition to seeing her, but now that she knows I’m seeking health insurance she doesn’t want to do that lest I “seem sicker than” I actually am.” My initial reaction to the whole group therapy thing was one of mild panic, a why-am-I-not-just-cured-or-something feeling, just a sense of What Now. But then when suddenly the Doctor reversed course I’m ironically more frustrated not to be looking seriously at this option– suddenly it’s something that Might have been good for me that I’m not doing but only for a really stupid reason. So, instead of looking at a therapeutic option she’s suggesting I find a singles group, not a dating organization but some kind of SinglesWhoHike or StampCollectingSingles thing. This came out of my questioning a couple weeks back of what real progress I’ve made, my need to do/see something concrete. Of course, she sees progress I find invisible, or even feel guilty over– i.e, she considers my increased “disloyalty” to my family progress. When we were discussing this she implied that maybe I wasn’t feeling like therapy was the right thing right now and that panicked me more than all the rest. I don’t know how people decide that they “don’t need it” anymore but I guess I’d like to think I’d have a series of appointments that didn’t involve hopelessness or crying as a precursor to  considering such a thing. I guess, but don’t really know, that I’m in a stage of therapy that a lot of people go through– I’m not immediately in crisis or anything so I’ve had more time to process and thereby feel badly about a variety of things and the question becomes what to do with the information. The Doctor says that I missed a developmental stage, that I’ve been parentified and that I “parent” my family in a variety of ways, sacrificing my self in the process. I’ve actually started to wonder if, at some subconscious level, I’ve never had an intimate relationship because that would hurt/upset/discomfort my family. Screwed up. Got it. Now what?

In non-mental-health news, things have been overall better than I had expected. I’ve had enough work and been paid decently for it all– without feeling like I’m in constant stress every week. I finished a show last week that was well-received, I’ve managed to pay my bills, and at present I’m set till mid-June or so when school lets out. I’m a bit anxious to be losing that employment-safety-net of substitute teaching for the summer, and trying to think more seriously about what I really want both for the summer and after. With a friend of mine going into grad school it’s looking good that I could teach her classes at my OldHighSchool and make a decent living, especially on top of some other freelance projects and the Tech gig I’ve got at a private school now. But of course all that would keep me Here, with all the family issues and career direction confusion Here has. On the other hand, leaving presents a million other scary prospects of it’s own. I don’t want to turn away from a good oppotunity (should one arise) just because I’m afraid to step out of my comfort zone, I’m just struggling to figure out what exactly I want that’s worth taking such a risk. So. Don’t really feel like I’ve stepped forward, but the breathing room of I’m-in-Transition has been kind of nice.

December 31, 2008

I’m not sure I trained enough for this particular marathon…

I love Christmas. And I have loved the Christmas-ness of this Christmas. Every night for the past week has been a joyous special thing that only the glittery soul of Christmas can create. My apartment is clean and sparkly with Christmas lights and candles and I’m hopeful that this little step of having a pleasing living space is a sign of more pleasing living to come.

Twice I visited my friends in the Christmas show I had been a part of for the 6 years prior. I miss it, and I miss them, but I guess it may be better in this season of change in my life to have had less of the running around that particular gig required. I needed the time. I mourn missing out on what was special there, in the same way I have mourned my leaving the Real Job– but I’ve been better for it, I’m sure.

I was part time through December 20th, and on that day a party was held in my honor. It was an odd collection of people but a very sweet little gathering that left me feeling cared for and more hopeful/less sad than I had expected. Not everything was done that needed to be done, so the loss was dulled by the fact that I still had my keys and a few files– it wasn’t like I wouldn’t be back. But I am coming to terms that I need to face this- finally, and really– and as I was driving around yesterday I found myself repeating aloud, “I don’t work there anymore. I don’t work there anymore…” My sleep has been filled with a sort of anxious self-loathing collection of dreams, in which I’m often late for appointments, unfairly accused of wrongdoing, and consumed with feelings of guilt. Apparently there is still shit to work out…

My week overall, however, as I mentioned before have been very special (if distracting,) and gratifying– but exhausting. An overview:


  • I did my very gift bag/candy run and then saw the Christmas show. HIGHLIGHT: Playing Santa handing out candy to everyone and my friend C’s reaction to his Christmas present. LOWLIGHT: I miss them.
  •  After a quick stop over at my parents’, I went to dinner with Soon- to- be- in- the- Navy-Cousin for Christmas Eve dinner, of which I only had time to eat a little bit before running off to be late for Church. HIGHLIGHT: Hanging out with Cousin. LOWLIGHT: There’s only so much I can take of one particular relative’s arrogant talk.
  • Church. HIGHLIGHT: The music and candles made the rushing back worth it, and my Minister’s grabbing my arm on my way out to see if I was working and how I was made me feel noticed and cared for.
  • Stopped back home and said hi to my landlord’s family, and then drove BACK to my parents, tossing presents under the tree and then sleeping in the guest bedroom upstairs. HIGHLIGHT:  Landlord’s son (who used to live in my apartment) was very impressed with my apartment, which I was so proud of . LOWLIGHT: I wanted to spend more time with them but it was hard not to feel like I was intruding on a family moment.


  • I got to sleep in and Sister, Brother-in-Law, and BestNieceEver showed up sometime in the early afternoon, better than last year. I got a cordless phone I’d been needing and knew I was getting. BestNieceEver wasn’t real interested in the whole sitting around opening presents thing but otherwise it was a fun time. My presents were well-received overall.  I had gotten BestNieceEver a magnadoodle and her first pair of jeans, both of which seemed to go over well. My dad seemed simultaneously mystified and impressed with his new iPod Shuffle and my mom has been reading the books I got her, so those seemed to have been a hit too. HIGHLIGHT: Playing Let’s-Throw-Wrapping-Paper-in-the-Air with BestNieceEver. LOWLIGHT: Brother-in-Law was freaking out about being late for the party with the other side of his family so he spent most of the time there looking at his watch.
  • I headed back to my place in the evening and enjoyed a quiet night with my Landlords, exchanging presents and eating Christmas cookies. HIGHLIGHT: Peace and quiet.


  • Friday afternoon my friends J&J came over with their 3 kids and we had ice cream sundaes and played Apples to Apples. The kids seemed to enjoy the books I got for them but it was clear they weren’t as cool as the seven million other presents they’d gotten in the past few days. J&J are probably going to hate me for the Joke Book I got their middle child– she has taken to reading aloud from it nonstop and the jokes are, well, pretty bad. HIGHLIGHT: It was wonderful just to be with my friends.
  • My parents came over later that evening before heading off to see the show I had gotten tickets for them to see, and then I was off to a Christmas party with the Christmas show people. HIGHLIGHT: My dad called me later just to say he loved the play. I rule!


  • The Big family party at my Dad’s Cousin’s house. HIGHLIGHT: BestNieceEver was the hit of the party. LOWLIGHT: My Great Uncle cried– he has lost 3 siblings and is so depressed… and no one really knew what to do.
  • After I got back I turned around and went back out to see Urbanblight and some of our old friends from high school. HIGHLIGHT: It was great to talk to them. LOWLIGHT: I wanted more time, and one of our friends seems particularly depressed.


  • Sunday was my friends J&J’s daughter’s 13th birthday. HIGHLIGHT: The little time with them I had before running off to the next thing. LOWLIGHT: The holiday was really beginning to wear on my at this point.
  • After that party I was off to a reunion of sorts for my high school at a local bar. HIGHLIGHT: Talking to people I really haven’t talked to for ten years. LOWLIGHT: Wishing my Life’s Transition wasn’t the main story I had to tell.


  • Went back to the office and did a bunch of stuff I wasn’t paid for and won’t be sufficiently appreciated for. Cynical? Maybe. But it was my choice and I still feel if I hadn’t done it I’d be worried about those things.
  • Sleep deprived and barely functional I did  something truly crazy. I had the kids I used to babysit– now 12 and 15!– to sleepover. We watched THREE episodes of Quantum Leap, played Scrabble and Apples to Apples, and I somehow managed to stay awake to just past midnight. HIGHLIGHT: They fell in love with my favorite TV show.


  • After the girls left I fell back asleep for several hours, despite really needing to tie up a bunch of loose ends at the (former) office of mine. OldBoss sent me an email officially announcing my Replacement, who had confidentially told me of their offer last week. Still sorting out how I feel about all that.
  • Went off to a Holiday Dinner for a scholarship foundation that gave me an award in high school. HIGHLIGHT: Good food. LOWLIGHT: Not really having much to talk about to anyone, except the kid I used to babysit– who’s now more than a foot taller than me and in seminary school. I feel old.
  • And now, back at my parents’, where BestNieceEver is sleeping over as well.


So yeah. Kinda tired. Somehow supposed to go to two parties TOMORROW too. We’ll see if the weather– and my stamina– cooperates.

December 29, 2008

Stage 3

Filed under: Business, Melancholy, Personal, Workaholism — me @ 2:01 pm

I seriously just had an epiphany. This thing I’ve been doing? It’s bargaining.

November 29, 2008

On a Day After Thanksgiving Ten Years Ago Today

Filed under: Memories, Personal, Spirituality — me @ 4:32 am

I was at a funeral I could never forget. Sitting in the surround-sound call-and-response of a Baptist church as the preacher talked about how God created them Male and Female, watching and hearing the outrage (and approval) around me, my head spinning- not fully able to comprehend what was happening. The preacher droned on, saying “and the Bible says…,” “because the Bible says…,” “remember the Bible says…,” — and I sobbed, embarrassed of my Christianity, angry to be part of a human race that could desecrate the dead, ashamed to be a witness my Dear Just-Turned-20-Year-Old friend be attacked even in death.

I remember seeing Urbanblight’s stone face in the back of the church as several people began walking out of what he would later describe as the most offensive thing he’d ever seen. I remember Uccellina somehow magically appearing next to me and somewhere in there after the fifteen thousandth chorus of “the Bible says” I reached out and found the Bible in front of me, running my hands through the pages until I found the sex laws in Leviticus and tore that thin paper out and found a tiny fraction of relief. In my grieving mind I could live with “the Bible says” being shouted ahead of me, so long as in my head I could reply “well THIS one Bible doesn’t.”

People often say they don’t remember their 21st birthday and the drunkness it often involves. But I remember that when I turned 21 a few months later, I realized it was a blessing he would not get. The finality hit home as I realized that to turn 21 was not a Given. I was blessed with these past ten years, and I’ve done my best with them. My Friend would have been 30 this past October, and I often wonder where his life would have taken him. I imagine it is hard the first time ANYONE goes to the funeral of a young person, particularly one who had been close. It was inconceiveable to imagine that someone so strong and healthy, someone who had been such a friend to me– could suddenly be gone.

But Friend’s passing left me with more than an increased sense of the Fragility of Life.  It changed me as a Person of Faith. Neutrality was no longer an option. I have tried to remember him well and to tell his story when it mattered most. It is in this way that I have come to some meager peace over such tragedy, to find some comfort that the tale of his passing could make a Difference, and that one day it would be unimaginable that such a thing might happen to another. May he, and the others whose tales are far too like his, rest in peace.

November 18, 2008

Moody Tonight

Filed under: Bad Patient, Melancholy, Personal, Workaholism — me @ 2:21 am

So my ear doesn’t hurt as much but I still have this weird sensation of being underwater when I talk. I’m coughing up my lungs less often– very much looking forward to being UnSick again. Workaholism and Depression probably get me sick more often than not, and they don’t interact well with sickness when it does arive. I get less done when I feel crummy, which then makes me feel more lousy, which then makes me push myself more, which then drags the physical-me down further. I’m not surprised I got sick, it’s a tradition of mine when I hit a particular marathon’s finish line (I bet a lot of you Theatre Folk out there caught a fever after Tech more than once…). It hasn’t really been the Finish though, its just been the Beginning of this strange period of having one foot still in the Job and one foot drawing away– working “part time,” at least on paper but not (yet) finding the consuming nature of the work lessening in my thoughts. It is almost as if, since I don’t have an obligation now to go into the office as much, I’ve been freed, paradoxically, to spend that “lost time” on the phone, on the internet, and wrapped up in paperwork in my pyjamas. I know this is not Not Working. And I know these habits are a cross between the Unreasonable Demands that Meant I Need to Leave in the first place and the Unreasonable Workaholism that Kept Me Here So Long.

I imagine to most of the people in my life, it must be pretty tiresome when I talk about where I’m at these days emotionally. I hum along fine and then suddenly it’s like tonight, where I’m back at square one, grieving this thing I’ve called My Job and trying to figure out what direction it is that I am to go in Next.

Today there was a meeting where a gathered committee discussed the various resumes that have come in and decide which are worthy for interview as my replacement. I wasn’t a part of the meeting, except to rudely interrupt with a question for my Boss as I was on my way out the door. But it scratched against me a little, the way fingernails scratch on a chalkboard, and I hadn’t expected it.

I’m trying to figure out why this all affects me so deeply. My Job made me feel special, it gave me purpose. It gave me something to do that I was uniquely able to do. I loved my Title, my Office, my System of White Binders on the shelf. I was in love with the potential my Job had, and enamored with the idea that I could Make It what I wished it could be. I wanted to redeem an Organization that had meant a great deal to me as a child. And when things fell down because there wasn’t enough funding, or staff, or lead time– I took it as a personal failure, thinking that if I had Just Worked Harder, if I hadn’t been So Tired, if I hadn’t let OldBoss get me down, and if I could Just Be Patient… it would be different.

In a way, I grew accustomed to whining while in this position, a tradition carried over from my time working for the StageMotherSchool. Whining is usually about being Righteously Annoyed, not Angry really. I was surrounded so often by behavior and situations that others might have gotten Angry about. But I never really owned Anger here. I couldn’t be angry in the disgusted way outsiders who came along were. I loved this Place so much. And I had worked so much to make It better– to be disgusted with It was to be disgusted with myself. So I would whine, to those few who both listened well and every now and then add fuel to my whining– it got that frustrated energy released, my ego massaged, my view of events affirmed. Of course it got old to listen to sometimes, and even the most patient in my life would wander into the “So Why Are You There?!” territory and I’d scuttle away emotionally– knowing I had complained a few moments too long. It was okay if I was the noble victim, if I could garner sympathy and support for my mistreatments and still go back in to work the next day. But I couldn’t handle the implication that I was pathetic, attaching myself to a situation that a grown up would– should– walk away from.

It is this that I was afraid of. This sense of What The Hell Am I Doing. Who Am I if not this Title. More than that even– Who Am I If Not The Saving of This Place.

Maybe I’ll find Somewhere Else to Save. Maybe I’ll be Special in a million new ways to come. Maybe there will be Someone To Come holding my hand, and I’ll realize I never could have given to them or gotten from them if I hadn’t taken this step. Maybe I’ll find a way to value myself highly with or without a current Great Project. It’s scary to step out into a whole lot of Maybes. I guess the one thing the Whirlwind of my Job always had was that– the Constancy of that Whirlwind could always be counted on. When the Whirlwind stops suddenly there is a whole lot of empty space for thinking about the things that make me feel inadequate, the finances I’m not sure I will conquer, the strains within the love I have for my family. Sometimes I have more pain in me than I would like to acknowledge.

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