Archive for February, 2010

Moving

Moving Day.

Mine was this week, in the midst of a blizzard. Highlights included a Magnolia banana pudding, friends speaking made-up languages, and a startling amount of rediscovered mousetraps.

At the end of the day, everything you own is packed into a tidy little pile. My stuff, this time, was moved into a 5×11 storage unit. It’s all about downsizing: from a Brooklyn apartment, to a storage unit, to one piece of checked luggage and a regulation size carry-on.

But it was only after I shoved that last box in the storage unit that I was able to realize the real significance of the move I’m making. As I rushed straight from storage to dinner with people who have been some of my dearest friends for the last eight years, it started to sink in. I’m moving. I’ve begun to move.

My mantra for the last few months has been, “Don’t run away. Run toward.” I know what I’m leaving. A city I love, friends who have become family. I’m not running away. But I don’t know exactly what I’m running toward yet. I know heading to Europe is the right decision. I know it’s the right direction. I simply have to move a little closer to see in more detail the destination to which I’m heading.

22 Again

When I think about where my life is going and where it’s been, I see my undergrad media law class. Our famously tough professor told us she always had the course scheduled at 8AM so we’d get ready for the “real world.” It was a vague concept then, even in my senior year. But, somehow, in my mind’s eye, I can see myself sitting in that chair but looking out – down the proverbial road to my “real world” future.

It’s been eight years since then. I thought I’d be a journalist. I never was. I thought I’d transition to working in a PR agency. I did marketing, client side. I thought I’d go to law school. I worked at one, but used my tuition remission to earn a Masters in counseling. I thought I’d be married with babies. I’ve had just a handful of dates in eight years of living in New York, none serious. None producing babies.

Now, as I find myself reentering the job market in the midst of the “global financial crisis,” I’m starting to wonder what the last eight and a half years of my life have been about. I  believe that everything works out for the best, that all the detours in my journey have been leading to something. But to what?

I feel like I’m 22 again, embarking on a new career path and looking toward setting up life in a new city. Daunting? Yes. But honestly, when I can drop the pride, it’s not such a bad place to be. A clean slate. A good dose of hope. A good road ahead.


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Where I’ve Been

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