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Dream bigger, please. Make magic.

December 31, 2010 3 comments

2010. You little bastard.

2010 was the weirdest year of my life. 2010 was the hardest year of my life. It was the most stretching, the most difficult, the most heartbreaking.

And yet, it also was the most triumphant year of my life. In 2010 I feel as though I changed into a different — a person that I’m beginning to be ok with. I like the way I’ve changed — for the most part. There’s always things to work on.

There was no big romantic love this year. That was a big difference. I think it was because my heart is still a little torn up about Boston. I gave so much of myself to that endeavor — I spent months planning, dreaming, imagining. I spent months searching for an apartment, visualizing myself taking the T, walking through the snowy streets of that new city. There was no room for anyone or anything else in my heart. And right now, there’s still not. I think I’m not happy unless I’m planning my next big escape, and putting my heart and soul into that.

That’s ok, right?

Leaving Boston was heartbreaking. It broke me for a little while. But anyway.

So here’s my year-in-review. 2010: What a year.

January.

My dream.

Well, of course, I up and moved to Boston. Jan. 10, 2010. I remember not being as scared as I should have been. I didn’t realize the implications of my move, or how hard it could be. What I remember most is the satisfaction of saying I would do something and actually following through with it. It was a good feeling.

It was a great feeling. January was a good month. I explored, I walked, I observed new people. I found a wall by Mass Art that had the gem of a quote that’s the title of this post. I worked for sweet Betsy. It was a magical month. I loved Boston: The snow covering the Common, riding the T. The frozen Charles river. Eerything.

February.

Oh, February. We didn’t get along so well. I can honestly say it was the hardest month this year. But I survived it. And it was the month that sparked my writing nearly every day, which I love.

I went to New York City by myself for Valentine’s Day, and it was incredible.

Freedom.

In February I fell. I thought I had a job and then I didn’t. And that’s OK.

Life isn’t always daisies and roses and freakin’ rainbows. People suck sometimes. But that’s OK. We’re all human.

So February. I fell and it took me a while to get back on my feet. But I did, finally, and I was all the better for it.

March.

Spring. Life. Flowers. March was when I got my job in the flower shop. And truly: I loved it. The job made me happier than every job I’ve held so far. The people I interacted with were (for the most part) pretty amazing. I worked harder than I’ve ever worked before, and for a while, I was happier than I’d ever been.

Love.

Love.

I met some truly incredible people: People I still remember today. The pansies man, and Steve. The guy who wanted the rose. The other guywho ays needed a beautiful bouquet for his girlfriend — and always made a point to talk to me and start a conversation, and find out why I moved out to Boston. He was kind, and I appreciated it. There was Cena, the man who worked in the shop next to the flower shop. He was kind — and always gave me an apple. 🙂 There was also the eccentric hair dresser: She was fabulous, and always stopped to tell me the display looked, “Fabulous, love, just fabulous.” She made my days happy.

I also met some amazing people outside of work. Being me though, I screwed it up, royally. And I still wish it had worked out differently.

April.

A hard month. My employers left for a trip to NYC for two weeks, and I was pretty much in charge of the shop in Back Bay. I worked for two weeks straight and it was hard. Little did I know, it was the beginning of the end. I worked double shifts from 7:30 a.m. to 9 or 10 at night. It. Was. Brutal. Apparently I have a hard time saying no when people ask me to work.

May.

I left Boston.

My Boston.

I left Boston in the hopes that I’d get the job I have now. My best friend got married, and her wedding was beautiful. But it was hard being home. I was resentful and missing Boston and frustrated with myself for giving up. It was a hard month. I remember writing one night that it already felt like someone else’s life. And it did. It felt like I’d never left, and I hated that.

But it was also nice getting reacquainted with my friends, my family, and more importantly: Texas. I realized while in Boston I dearly love this state: The people, the atmosphere, the rolling, flat landscape. It’s beautiful in its own way, and I can appreciate it now. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stay here forever. Hell no. There’s too much of that great, big, beautiful, amazing and ever-changing world to see. I can’t wait.

June.

My birthday month. The month I started my first job at a newspaper. I made some stupid mistakes, I sat by the pool drinking beers with my best friend and I settled into my new job.

I tried to end my blog, but that didn’t last. Even though I don’t write as much as I used to, this blog is important to me. I like knowing it’s here; that I can use it as an outlet for my joys, my struggles, my angst and thoughts.

A trip to Barnes and Noble one morning sparked a new love: Travel. Exploring the world. It was at that point I started thinking about some new opportunities within the next few years.

July.

Hmm. July. I stopped writing. It was like my words dried up for a little while. I was still learning to settle down in Lubbock. And learning about the job. But once I got into a rhythm, it wasn’t so bad. But in the back of my head,  Iwas still dreaming. Always dreaming. I’m never not dreaming.

August.

I don’t even know. I was reading a lot and working a lot and missing Boston. To be honest, it all blends together. It was an unremarkable month, much like most of my months and days lately.

September.

Oh, this was a good month. My good friend from Germany came to visit, and it was so good to see him and catch up after nearly six years of not seeing each other. It was definitely interesting and a little bit unexpected. Hmmm…I think that’s all I’ll say on here.

This month I also realized how to accept where I am. I made a conscious effort to stop regretting my choices, and learn to be where I am. Does that make sense? I’m trying, really I am.

I also came to the realization that no matter where I am in my life, there’s always going to be things back home I’ll miss. So, to counteract that, I’ve gotta be somewhere awesome so it’s not so bad.

Oh, and I also went skydiving. It was amazing. incredible. Liberating. I LOVED IT.

Liberation.

October.

October, October…hmm. October I realized I had to start being happy. I had to stop reliving my time in Boston, because it wasn’t coming back. And that was ok. I have other things to look forward to. Bigger things. Better things.

October was hard. I was working six days a week and it. was. rough. I felt like I never left work, but I did save an ass-load of money. That’s nice.

November.

November I missed my first holiday with my family: Thanksgiving. It was hard, then again, what’s not hard these days?

And December.

The last month of the year. Christmas. The holidays. Cheer and thanksgiving and peace.

I worked Christmas too. And now I’m here, on the same couch I was on in 2009, ringing in the new year the same way. And yet, I’m different, so that’s OK. I don’t mind it.

This year is over. As I’m writing this, there are 2 hours and 5 minutes left in the year.

I’m ready, 2011. I thought I was ready for 2010, but as it turns out, I think 2011 will be my year.

I still have hope. I still have dreams. I’m going to make magic.

2011 will be amazing. I’m determined to make it so, and you all know I’m a girl with some serious determination.

So here are my resolutions:

I’m going to be brave. I’m going to take on the world.

 I want to stay in shape: Running has been working wonders for me.

I want to find peace. I want to remember that this is my one chance in life, and if I want to do something, I’m going to do it.

But more importantly, I want to continue dreaming. The thing I believe in most is a person’s capacityto dream. Without that, we’re a little lost.

I dream big dreams.

It’s what got me to Boston. It’s what has (and is) getting me through living in Lubbock again.

Dreams are going to carry me around the world, and I can’t wait to see where I land first.

2011 will be my year of adventure, my year of excitement: My year of unexpectedness. It will be. I can’t handle it not being otherwise.

So get ready, people: 2011 is upon us.

Make some magic.

Categories: Thoughts Tags: , , , , , , ,

Choices, lessons and grace.

November 25, 2010 1 comment

I can’t believe it’s Thanksgiving again. WhenI think about the year since last Thanksgiving…whoa. Really?

Last Thanksgiving I was on the verge of a major move across the country. I was breathless with new possibilities and ready to take on the world.

Oh, that Katie. That sweet, naive, ambitious, optimistic, dreamy Katie.

And how things have changed since then. Last year I was thankful for family. For choices. For making known what I wanted (thought I wanted, I suppose. I don’t know anymore.) and having the courage to go after it.

It was a truly interesting year — a life-changing, dream-transforming year.

So here’s what I’m thankful for this year.

I’m thankful, as always for my incredible set of parents. I’ve thrown quite a few little curve balls at them in the last year, and most recently in the last two weeks, and they’ve never let me down. Even when I thought they would laugh, they never did. They never scoffed at my grandiose and far-reaching dreams. No matter how far into the various corners of the world they reached. They accepted what I have wanted to do thus far and have gone with it quite nicely.

I’m thankful I have a sister who tells me what I need to hear, even when it hurts like hell.

I’m more than thankful I have friends who listen to me bitch and moan and whine. I don’t deserve their listening ears, but they’re always there for me nonetheless.

I’m thankful for new experiences — good and bad. This year was completely and utterly transformative, and I can’t believe I am where I am today. It’s not where I expected to be, but it’s not entirely bad.

And I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again: I’m so thankful I moved to Boston. That city, it changed me, as trite as it sounds. It’s a part of me now, and I’m terrified I’ll forget those four months.

I’m thankful for all the little things: learning the T and memorizing the stops I needed to get to my little apartment on Shepherd Ave. I’m thankful for my flower job and for working for sweet Betsy. I’m thankful Steve became my friend and taught me how important it is to give–even when I think I have nothing. Because until I’m in Steve’s position I always have something. I’m thankful for all the wonderful people I was able to meet — people who taught me how to look at the world in different colors, to find the beauty in the mundane.

I’m thankful I found a home in a new part of the country other than West Texas.

But this year I’m most thankful for learning lessons. It’s been one of the hardest years of my life, but boy, have I had to grow the hell up. And I love that. I love that I’ve learned from my mistakes. I’ve finally realized that coming back to Lubbock wasn’t a failure.

Not going to Boston would have been the failure. Simply taking the leap and making it in the city for a few months was the success. And it taught me I can take big chances and dream big dreams and come out the other side partly unscathed.

So this year, I guess instead of “Peace, faith, courage and possibility,” my words are these: “Lessons, choices, opportunities. Grace.”

And still peace. Always peace.

And this year is so different from last year. Last year I had a clear idea of where I was going and where I wanted to be. Last year I was a dreamer and bit more innocent. Now my ideas are foggy and unsure. But I think that’s ok. I’m looking forward to figuring it all out and finding a new place to land.

Life gave me a kick in the pants this week.

October 29, 2010 Leave a comment

This week I had not one, but two, people tell me something that bothered me horribly.

“Katie, you’re never happy. What’s going on?”

“Katie, you weren’t happy in Lubbock so you moved to Boston. Then you moved back to Lubbock after Boston, and you’re unhappy again. When are you ever going to be happy?”

Um…

Ok.

Apparently, it’s time for a little self-reflection.

And here’s what I came up with.

I’m not unhappy — in any way, shape or form. I’m frustrated, and that feels like a huge difference to me.

I’m frustrated and deeply disappointed in myself. When I moved to Boston, I had all the optimism in the world. I was going to go up there, kick some Yankee butt and ingrain myself in that life. I was going to find an awesome job in the publishing industry, and basically, start over.

So I did that. In January 2010 I hopped on a plane with my cat and a suitcase and a hell of a lot of dreams and left the hometown I was born and raised in. 

Four months later, I was back. Granted, I am back for a great job, a real job, (and that’s more than some people can say) but still. I’m back.

No matter what anyone says to me, no matter how many people tell me I “made it in Boston,” I don’t feel like I did. I feel like I gave up. Like I threw away my dreams of the last few years because things got a little hard. It feels like I turned my back on the girl I was in January and ignored her pleas to stay. To power through and keep trying and pushing and hoping and wishing.

I’m so disappointed in myself, it’s hard to explain. I hate living with this much regret. I hate that, as my sister phrased it, “I’m drowning in self-pity.” It’s true and when she said that to me it was like the universe slapped me in the face and told me to get the hell over it.

But. And here’s the part where everyone reading this realizes that I’m really not a total downer. My mindset is turning around.

I am where I am, and regardless of how I wish it were different, it’s not going to change for a while. And you know what? I’m thinking that may be OK for now.

I’m realizing more and more how where I am right now is not bad. It’s finally hit me that living with such a sh*tload of regret and disappointment backlogged in my brain and my heart is essentially crippling my life. It’s not healthy, and even more than that, it’s not going to get me back to where I want to be. The only thing that will get me back on track is more of that optimism I talked about earlier. And sheer will. And you know I have that.

But the way I see it, I had two choices back in May/June when I was offered this job. Both choices would have given me different experiences, new people to meet and various life lessons to learn.

Neither choice was bad. Neither choice was clearly the better choice.

Because I chose to take this job, I’m going to end up somewhere different than if I had stayed in Boston. While that’s a hard truth to swallow, I have to believe it. And I’m not going to end up somewhere bad. It’s just going to be much different than I originally thought it would be.

But isn’t that sort of the beauty of life and the power of making your own choices? You never know what’s around the next corner, and I love that.

So long story short, I’m sorry everyone. I’m sorry for imposing my frustration on all of you, as I know it hasn’t made me a fun person to be around. Know that I’m trying; know that I’m attempting to turn all this negativity into peace — into optimisim and hope and dreams for my future. It’ll happen. I’m not going to be drowning anymore.

So thank you, Universe. And thanks to my friends and sister who aren’t afraid to be honest and call it like it is.

I just hate that I have to wait for my next adventure, haha.

Just remember.

June 17, 2010 2 comments

So, as I suspected it might be, my time away from my blog was short-lived.

I thought that by ending my blog I could just live my life, instead of narrating it for those I love. Which, if you think about it, is a little pointless considering I talk to most of my friends quite frequently.

My reason for deciding to begin writing on this thing is simple: I had a jolt. I saw something that moved me earlier, and my fingers ached to be at my computer, typing madly enough to get my thoughts down before they left my brain.

I had to wait an hour or so, but here I am. Back.

And that’s my problem these days. I’m back. Back in the place I used to hate, and striving to make it better than last time. I’m enjoying my job and I’m spending time with friends I missed so dearly the last two months.

Do you remember this day? The day where I saw a bumper sticker that made me smile and made me list stupid things about myself? It made me re-evaluate why I wanted to move to Boston and made me…not question…but think very hard about what I wanted to do come January 2010.

Well today, I saw that same damn bumper sticker. I was stopped at a light, listening to music, looked up and at the car in front of me. And what do you think I saw? It was the same car. The same bumper sticker with the same message that always makes me tear up a little.

It made me smile because it was another one of those small little signs that I needed. I needed to see that and read it and remind myself what makes me me.

One of my favorite bloggers, Her, wrote a post recently that makes me cry. I go back and read it frequently, because she and her husband seem to feel the same way that I do about our 20s: We all feel a little lost sometimes and unsure of what the next move is. What the correct move should be. It’s never easy, and we’re all finding that there’s never a clear-cut yes or no answer. I think we’re figuring out that sometimes it’s better to take a leap of faith and jump–and then figure out things once you land.

That’s what I’ve done in my life. I moved to Boston. I moved back to take a great job.

Now? Now I’m making plans to leap again. Not anytime soon; not for another year. But it’s going to happen again. I like being the adventurous girl; the one with the spirit and the guts and the passion and the drive.

And I’m going to continue reminding myself one thing:

It’s OK to feel lost in life. I just have to keep in mind I’m the girl with the damn wanderlust.

To Boston. Love, Me.

May 11, 2010 5 comments

Dear Boston,

This is my letter to you, after living here for four months. To most people it’s not that long, but for me, it was the longest I’d ever been away from home.

I came to you with few expectations. What I wanted most was to change and experience new things. I did that.

I let myself be swallowed by your crowds: the endless tourists, the harried business-people, the high society and the homeless. I immersed myself in the artists and hipsters, the dreamers and the doers, the lovers and the fighters, the academics and the bums. I loved how you are filled different opinions from all corners of the city. Opinions that have to be shouted to be heard.

Boston, I loved you from the moment I stepped off the plane. Your bitter winds and cold people didn’t scare me too badly. I was ready for whatever you threw at me, and boy, did you have some alternately nasty and amazing tricks up your sleeve. I can honestly say I went through my highest highs and lowest lows while in your city.

But you showed me that I’m stronger than I thought possible. In the depth of my fright I wanted nothing more than to run home to Mom and Dad and safety, but simply being here made that impossible. For the first time in my life you forced me to rely completely on myself. You reinforced my belief that I had to get away from what I knew in order to find myself and love me.

You challenged me, Boston. You showed me when I should be wary and when I should show compassion. You let me befriend a homeless man. You made me try new things. I danced in a seedy jazz club in New York City. I ate sushi. I walked and explored every inch of you, Boston. I danced without caring and played and laughed and cried. I listened to new music and went to art shows. I worked jobs I’d never before considered. I tried yoga and stopped being afraid to go places by myself.

You broke my heart and then fixed it for me, Boston. You made me fall apart, but then you put me back together for the better. I found qualities I never knew I had. I learned the satisfaction of working hard at a job and how good an honest day’s work feels. 

You charmed me. Boston, you may not have the speed and pace that New York has, but God, you have your perks. New York is dull and rushed and dirty, but you shine. You have clean sidewalks, the Red Sox, and all types of people. No place compares to you and the way that you sparkle on a sunny day. There is history woven into every fiber of this city. And pride. Oh, Boston, you have your pride.

You gave me places to go to when I needed comfort. I fell in love with you here.

 

I contemplated life here.

 

I enjoyed my lunch breaks on sunny days here.

 

Boston, you gave me something to strive for when I had no idea what I wanted to do after graduation.

At my job you gave me people to talk to and learn from. The best part about my job was recognizing people on a daily basis, people who fascinated me and broke my heart. There was Steve, the man who brought me coffee each and every morning–even though he was homeless and had probably 20 bucks to his name. There was the Latino hairdresser who worked on Newbury Street, and even though she is what we would call “fabulous,” she always went out of her way to compliment me on the hard work I put into that display. There was the sweet, soft-spoken gay man who came by each week to buy pansies for his flower boxes and always wished me a good day. You gave me new friends who enriched my life and challenged me and forced me out of my shell.

You let me be the girl who stood out and shone to those back home—something I’d never felt before. You let others believe in me and encourage me when I had trouble believing in myself.

You let me be me, Boston. You held no expectations of me. You just asked that I tried to be myself. That was enough for you. 

You showed me that happiness truly is a choice. My mom had always said it, but I thought once I got to a new place happiness would be easy. No. It’s definitely a choice. Thank you also for showing me that happiness is less about place, and more about the people with whom I choose to surround myself.

Thank you for saving me. When I came to your city I was a shy girl who apologized incessantly for existing. You showed me it’s OK to be in the way at times. You taught me to be bold and be noticed.

You took me in and let me stay awhile, filling me up with new sights, sounds, smells, people and experiences.

People fall in love, but in the last four months, I fell in love with you. As much as I wished otherwise there was no room in my heart for anyone or anything but you and learning your intricacies. I knew this experience would change my life, but I didn’t realize that so much of the change would be internal.

I didn’t know how long this experience would last, but I knew I was ready to stick it out, as long as I needed to. And now, it’s time to move on. Though I hope it does, Boston, life may not bring me back to you. But because of you, I’m not afraid of where I end up. I pray I continue the changes you began. 

 So, Boston, I’ll see you later. Thanks for the memories. I’m on to better things.

Love,

Me.

How can I say no?

May 7, 2010 1 comment

I’ve always categorized myself with the dreamers; with those who are able to dream without limits and who wholeheartedly believe that anything is possible in a cynical and mean world.

Part of it is that I’ve tried to retain my childhood innocence and my imagination I used to have. I think the other part is that I’d rather not face reality. Thank you, but no. I like the inside of my head more.

But reality is brutal and inevitable and when it hits, it hits hard. Read on.

My move to Boston was a gift to myself.

I grew up in one town my entire life, and spent 2/3s of my college career in another town less than two hours away from home.

Needless to say there were very few opportunities for me to be faced with new people and new experiences. Mom and Dad, don’t get offended, but I often felt as though those towns gave me very little room to grow and be exactly who I wanted to be–especially if it went against the social norms.

In my junior high private Christian school I was told I had to wear certain clothes, not date boys and never dance. Because dancing is of the devil. (What?)

High school was similar. Although I found my little group of friends where I could be myself outside of school, within those hallways I was terrified of being myself. I was terrified of being teased the way I was in junior high.

And college. Oh, college. In a town that mirrored my hometown and had double the population, is it any wonder I needed a break?

So that’s what I did. I moved to Boston.

 I wanted to give myself a chance to grow, breathe, and re-learn things I thought I knew about myself.

And here’s what I learned. Here’s me. I can finally be 100% unapologetic for it.

I dream, even more so now. I’m all about the ultimate outcomes. I love hard and fall harder. When I love a job there’s no harder worker than me. (Remember those 60-hour work weeks?) I believe life is beautiful and I’m even more terrified of running out of time.

I learned that I love all people. I’m friends with a homeless man.

I’ve learned not to be so trusting, because the second you trust something, that’s when it all falls apart.

I’ve learned that I can be best friends with my very gay hair stylist. We chat and laugh and giggle about boys and life the whole time he’s doing my hair.

I’ve learned that I needed to get away from home in order to appreciate it more. I didn’t realize that until now.

I learned that I love to write. When the words are coming there’s nothing that can stop it. They’re a current that run through my veins, when I’m inspired, they flow quickly through me to the paper. Or rather, as this is the age of computers, they flow to the screen.

I learned that I have superior tendencies. I would like to believe that New England is way better than Texas. I used to believe that west Texas was a throwback to the old days and needed to get with it. I thought nothing was going on there. Now I know: it’s the beat and pulse of the people that make a place special and important. There’s life everywhere. It’s just a matter of finding it.

I learned that I value my alone time. I’m contradictory at it’s best. Given the choice I’ll almost always decide to hang out by myself. If I decide to hang out with you, you better be interesting because you’re keeping me from me. 😉

I also learned that what I love about cities isn’t just the opportunity lurking around every corner. It’s that people are alllowed to just be. No one, and I mean no one expects you to be anyone but yourself here. Part of it is that no one really gives a damn what you do, yes, but the other part is that everyone’s pretty much seen it all at this point. Nothing is too surprising for most people here. There’s no condemnation. It’s beautiful.

So now, four months in to my Boston experience, it appears it’s time to head back home to Texas.

My heart feels torn. On the one hand, I’m going home to a perfect job; a job that is a godsend in this economy. I’d be a spoiled brat if I even considered saying no to the job, which believe me, I’m not.

But my heart. I’m broken-hearted about leaving Boston. The Cinderella City. Beantown. It’s lonely and rough and I haven’t always enjoyed it, but oh, I love this city.

I’m sad because I start to think of the girl who started this blog: the small-town blues, big city dreams girl. I know I’ve changed since then. I wonder what she would say if she were sitting on this couch with me right now.

Would she berate me for being sensible and taking the safe job?

Or would she understand that really, I should be more than grateful for  this job?

I want to tell her…Boston is not going anywhere. You’ve done it once and you can do it again. You moved to a completely unfamiliar place, supported yourself and you had some fun.

You grew up.

But I keep beating myself up about this. There is a part of me that feels that I’m giving up on my big city dream. And that hurts more than anything.

I know that going to Texas is the right thing to do. I’m excited about taking this job because it’s exactly what I want to do with my life. But the adjustment back to Texas is going to be difficult.

Categories: Uncategorized Tags: , , , , ,

Just one wish today.

April 15, 2010 2 comments

Today I woke up with one prayer on my heart: “Lord, please give me the strength to get through today. Just today.”

That’s all I could ask for.

I’ve been having a hard time lately. Working an average of 60 hours a week and not having a chance to actually go out and meet people is beginning to take its toll on me.

This prayer stayed on my heart as I slugged through my morning routine. It pounded through my head as I showered, dried my hair, dressed and put on the little bit of make-up my sleep-deprived eyes could handle.

I repeated it as I sat on the bus on the way to Copley at 7:30 a.m. with the rest of the morning drones. The drones who were probably cursing their lives as much as I was mine at that moment.

I said it to myself after getting humiliated by a stupid rich b**** who literally curled her lip at me when she saw the dirt until my nails and the callouses on my fingertips.

I said it again after that same woman made me blow up three helium balloons for her until she was satisfied with one, then sat through the next five minutes when she came back three times to order me to refill it because it was “deflating.” I said it once more for good measure when she came back for a FOURTH time and demanded a refund because I had done a subpar job of filling her damn balloon, and “it just wasn’t working for her.”

And then I tied that balloon to the stool in the store to prove to myself that I was, in fact, NOT an incompetent idiot who lacked the ability to fill up a stupid, worthless “Happy Birthday” balloon.

Stupid, stupid, stupid balloon. For the record, I filled it just fine. It didn’t deflate. That journalism degree is being put to good use, let me just tell you.

That brings me to my next point: my degree.

I understand that the economy sucks right now. I understand that this means it’s not guaranteed that I will immediately get a job upon graduating, because obviously, that didn’t happen. I get that sometimes you have to work jobs you don’t expect in order to pay the bills.

But I do not appreciate being made to feel like I am stupid by my employers or the people who come in to the shop because I’m still learning about flowers.

I have a degree, Mr. and Mrs. Employer. Yes, my degree is journalism, and I know that this means you think that I bring absolutely nothing to the table. But here’s what I bring.

I listen to you when you speak, even if secretly I think you’re just blowing out steam. I’ll still listen, and I will make every effort to understand.

If I don’t understand I will ask intelligent, pertinent questions.

I can handle tough customers. I may sigh and complain about them after they leave but you’ll never see me let go of my emotions in front of them. Never.

I am observant. I notice it when people are acting funny and am not afraid to point it out to you.

I’m resourceful. I’m always ready for the unexpected and if things do not go as planned I will do my best to right the wrong or go with whatever is happening.

So, please, Mr. and Mrs. Employer, although I am not perfect at this job, please keep in mind I’m trying. I pride myself on being a hard worker and trust me, I don’t want to let you down.  Keep in mind I’ve worked no less than 50 hours a week for you since the day that I started more than a month ago. Realize that I’m getting tired. Please realize that I have another job outside of this one. And that when I open the shop before 8 a.m. each morning, I get extremely pissed off if I am not allowed a break until 4 p.m. Legally, that’s unacceptable.

Please, Mr. and Mrs. Employer, understand that I get frustrated when I am told different things by each of you. And understand that I hate following one set of directions and then completely changing everything to comply with a separate set of instructions.

Figure out what you want. Not only will you make my life easier, but it’ll make your life easier as well. I’ll follow your directions. I’m a stickler for directions. That’s why I get so frustrated.

I don’t like feeling like I’m doing a less than acceptable job. And that’s the only way I’ve felt for the last week and a half. I can’t stand it when bosses nit-pick and criticize every single, itty-bitty, teeny-tiny thing. Especially in front of customers. Don’t make me look bad just because you are the boss.

Employees do better with encouragement. That’s all I’m saying.

So that was the prayer that was on my heart.

To be honest, Boston is wearing me out. It’s exhausting. Between all the work and the walking and the people and the writing it’s a shock to my poor little Texas system. I’m still living in a “slow” state of mind and I’m trying to get used to this fast-paced world I’ve thrust myself in.

I realize that my last few posts, including this one, have been extremely discouraging and I am sorry for that. I know it makes me sound sad. I know it makes me sound ungrateful for this job and this beautiful life I’m living. I just need a small break. A trip home would be the perfect breath of fresh air for my heart.

I’m craving Texas. I want a bear hug from my Papa and I want Sunday dinner with my family. I want a wine night with Chris and I want to go shopping with Wendy. I want to fight with my sister over the space in our bathroom back home. I want to see my mom and dad.

As I write this I’m terrified that admitting these things is admitting defeat.

Does feeling this way mean that on some level I’ve failed completely on this move?

I don’t want to go back to Texas for good. I just want a visit. I’m entranced with Boston. It makes me smile. Most of the time. Especially when it looks like this. 🙂

George Washington in the Public Garden

Or this:

Boston skyline from a water taxi

I just need a break. I’ve never been homesick like this before. I’ve never craved so much familiarity.  

I realize that my last few posts, including this one, have been extremely discouraging and I am sorry for that.

I know it makes me sound sad. I know it makes me sound ungrateful for this job and this beautiful life I’m living.

I just need a small break. A trip home would be the perfect breath of fresh air for my heart.

I’m craving Texas. I want a bear hug from my Papa and I want Sunday dinner with my family. I want a wine night with Chris and I want to go shopping with Wendy. I want to fight with my sister over the space in our bathroom back home. I want to see my mom and dad.

As I write this I’m terrified that admitting these things is admitting defeat.

Does feeling this way mean that on some level I’ve failed completely on this move? I’d like to believe that I’m allowed this time. Can this still be my transition period, a time for me to adjust to this place that is so unbelievably, radically different from what I grew up in?

I don’t want to go back to Texas for good. I just want a visit. I’m entranced with Boston. It makes me smile. Most of the time.

I just need a break. I’ve never been homesick like this before. I’ve never craved so much familiarity. 

So, my dears, this is what my heavy heart has to say to you today. 

I’m sorry it’s such a downer. Hopefully my next post will be more upbeat.