Today was one of those days when I really wish I had just stayed in bed. However, given how loud my apartment has become most mornings, there really was no point. This morning, an irate (I assume homeless but could not be bothered to leave my bed burrito to find out for sure) man could be heard yelling at the top of his lungs on the street 4 floors below, through my earplugs and mostly closed windows. *closes eyes harder and groans, gives up and looks at phone* Yup, 5am.
I haven’t been sleeping well in recent weeks, though I don’t know why. Stress? Yeah. In the audit world, my job world, I’ve been going through a restatement. It’s a dirty word, which means the client’s financial statements had an error in them, deemed significant enough to be material, which warrants restating the previously issued financial statements. The restated financials went out today, and like Frodo throwing the ring into Mount Doom to be lost forever, I’m relieved and exhausted to have that weight off my chest. I also had other financial statements go out the door today for an unexpected piece of work that took over my August and September. I’ve driven 25 miles to Google in Sunnyvale multiple times in the last two weeks, to my non-profit client in Novato multiple times per week, and all over the bay area in between this month. I’ve sat in more traffic than I ever want to admit. Once I get out of traffic, I open up my laptop at home and keep working.
I’ve taken a lot of unnecessary crap from people lately, while I remain quiet. It’s exhausting. Why does everyone else get to be thoughtless and insensitive, not me? I think I’d get ripped a new one if I put one toe out of line. Or I’m so hard on myself, because of things like standards and being a good person, it’s not an option. I know what I look like; I can’t afford to be a bitch because I’m not good looking enough to get away with it. It hardly seems fair. I’d love to a be a member of the non-self-aware club, demanding the extremely impossible yesterday, like Miranda Priestly in Devil Wears Prada. But I am not, unfortunately.
I haven’t been eating much either. Partly because I’ve been on a diet, but partly because that diet is a direct result of a massively decreased appetite. I’ve also been putting cleaner fuel (translation: food) into my body, as it makes me feel better. I’ve been very diligent about going to the gym ever since I got back from Iceland in June. That’s a whole fiscal quarter of trying. I’m doing what I can to tire out my body, but alas, sleep evades me. Part of a daily regimen of mental health is adequate sleep. I delve into the benefits of sleep in this blog post. In an ideal world, I’d have no reason to not be sleeping well right now.
There is construction happening on the building next to mine, which has been vacant and derelict for years. Because San Francisco is trying to increase supply of housing to meet demand (check out my blog post on what venture capital funding is doing to San Francisco living), construction is happening on every other block now. It affects not only noise levels, but traffic flow, sidewalk traffic, and even lines at local eateries where workers take their breaks.
The crew begins every morning, arriving at the site at 6:30am, slamming doors, moving heavy equipment loudly, backing up trucks that beep loudly when in reverse, and then the crews begin grinding metal or power washing in an echo chamber promptly at 7am. I feel for them having to be there that early, I really do, but they are getting paid. I’m not getting paid, and worse, no one checked with me or any of the other tenants of my building when construction on that empty building was approved. If I had known when I signed my lease that construction would begin shortly after I moved in with an indefinite end time, I’d have thought twice about my chosen location.
San Francisco is more abrasive than ever, and it’s wearing me down again. I need a vacation. I need to move. I got an email from HR last week that I have so much vacation time accrued that I actually just lost some hours because I didn’t take them. Well, I didn’t know they were there! I have never been a person to waste one single hour of vacation! In Australia, I’d let HR garnish my paycheck to purchase additional annual leave so I could take extra vacations while I was in that part of the world. In recent weeks, I’ve thought of Egypt, Petra, Canada, Africa, and all the other places I’d love to be rather than where I am. I need to find some time to have a break because my work schedule is looking pretty bleak from here on out. Sigh.
When you get split ends in your hair, it’s usually time for a haircut. It renews the hair and allows it to grow again. I recently got a haircut and it felt great. Nothing fancy, just cleaning up around the ears and neck.
Sometimes life has a seemingly never ending series of dead ends. That person wasn’t meant for you; that job wasn’t meant for you either. All the doors are closed. That opportunity didn’t work out. That friendship faded away. No. Not yours.
When life hands you dead ends, to move forward, sometimes you need to cut away those dead ends. They’re doing nothing for you. So, get a haircut. Select all and archive. That’s what I’d like to do with the last 3 months, possibly further back in time. Archive. Never to be opened again.
It can be a full time job, to keep your fragile flame from the wind and driving rain. I chose not to sit idly by, when I returned from my sabbatical, as the life I wanted passed me by. I knocked on metaphorical doors and took chance after chance. I made myself vulnerable, and hurt because of it. Stupid girl.
I’m actively searching, which means I’ve been running into one dead end after another. So much rejection can leave one feeling worthless and unappreciated for being just who they are. Going door to metaphorical door, silently asking, “Are you my missing puzzle piece?” with a hopeful look and finding out time and again she was not leaves one feeling too tired to keep trying. Being brave in interviews and putting oneself out there, only to hear you’re overqualified, or just don’t have the right skill set, leaves one feeling trapped in their current job. Trapped in their current life they’re actively trying to make better.
I’ve written a post before about the concept of being malleable. I must be malleable, because I’m still here. But it certainly doesn’t look like a pretty picture from where I am standing.
To an outsider, it would appear I have a stable job, a place to live, and a Facebook full of friends. That’s not enough for me, though. People ask how I’m doing or what’s new, and I’m fine or nothing much. However, the absence of activity is not the measure of success. I don’t just want the status quo. I want real change. But all the doors I’m trying are closed, locked, and not meant for me. When will it be time for the door that’s right for me to open? I feel like I’ve been waiting forever. I’m in the prime of my life, and I want it now. Life is too short to have to wait for it. I’m chasing it, and it just keeps losing me. Any day, now. Please? Am I reaching for the stars here?
Yeah yeah yeah. The sun’ll come out tomorrow, so I gotta hang on til tomorrow. Come what may…
What’s coming better involve the second season of How to Get Away with Murder on Netflix stat (even though the first season just came out), and a pizza. That’s all I’m saying…