Today is the first day...

Blah, blah, blah...

Although it's fricking true.  Still, blah, blah, blah.

I am at another, shall we say, "transition point" in my life.  The part-time contract that was supposed to be somewhat short-term and that I managed to actually stretch out for a full year - much past it's expiration date - is not-so-surprisingly coming to an end.

In the bigger picture, I know this is a good thing. 

And I know my friends are stuck providing me all the good trite sayings I would say to them in the same situation.  "Today is the first day of the rest of your life", etc., etc.

And I feel their pain.  I know that there is NOTHING they could say to me - trite or otherwise - that would necessarily penetrate this bubble of concern that is surrounding me.

Now, I'm not on full blown panic or distress (yet).  But I'm not exactly happy, either.

I have several months before full blown panic or distress comes in (not that I won't have my moments, mind you). 

One of the problems I have is that some of my contracts are open ended, so it's not always possible to prepare ahead of time for another one, because it's not always clear with the first one is going to end.  It took me eight months between the last one and this one to have more than a two or three week gig, and those were eight long months.  I made a small amount of savings stretch quite far.  I was quite impressed with myself, frankly.

But my savings going into this round, though, are a little less impressive because I had some serious dental bills at the beginning of the year.  So I'm nervous.

I try to have faith.  God and I are having quite a few conversations lately.  He's the strong silent type.  He knows anything he might say I'd probably respond "blah, blah, blah" to, much as I have been doing to my friends. But I am trying to have faith that when this door closes, another one will open.  Or a window (although it's starting to get chillier...).

I also know job hunting before Christmas is not always easy.  I've got an extra month or so jump from prior years when I've found myself in this situation, but I know once mid-November hits, I just have to hold on until January.  And I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. 

The problem with these transition points, as I so politely call them, is that it also calls into question other "life choices".  Now this can be a good examination, or a not-so-good examination.  It is good and healthy, as a general rule, to make sure you stop and examine if you are in the place (literally, figuratively, metaphysically) that you want to be in your life, and when certain obligations that have been keeping you in those positions release, to confirm you are where you want to be.  Those are good examinations, because if you're going to make big changes in your life, these are good moments to make them.

The trouble is that the flip side of that can be a little bit like Alice's rabbit-hole.  And it doesn't take much to slip into full-on crisis and doubt that everything you've done to get yourself to this place and everything that you're doing is wrong.  And that you aren't supposed to be here, and .. well... you can already see how the cycle can swirl out of control quite quickly.

And I have spent a considerable amount of this summer beginning to wonder if this is the place I should be.  Wondering if despite how much I *do* like small town life, if this isn't still a bit too small for me - or perhaps, at least, not as diverse for me as I might want.  Surely there are small towns in the world with larger lesbian populations <*cough* Oregon *cough*>.   Of course even those that are nearby seem a little too political for my taste... (picky, picky, picky).  But in late June when my landlord told me I might have been better off if the Poltergeist tree had taken out my house, I have been wondering what I would do if it had.  Where would I go?  Would I stay here?

The problem, then, with grand sayings like "Today is the first day..." is that while it's meant to be optimistic and full of possibilities, is that it is just full of possibilities. And they swirl in front of someone with no direction like a tornado.  (And tornadoes are not good around here, because they bring down the BIG ASS TREE onto my house, and well...)

My friends are stuck in a hopeless situation.  I want feedback, I want *something* from them in response to my growing fear, and yet, I know, my response to anything they might offer me is "Blah, blah, blah..."  I'll have answers to refute any of their good suggestions (not that they won't stick in my craw and gestate even after I refute them) and that I will be quite stubborn and frustrating.  Which is why God stays silent.  He knows that actions speak louder than words.  Right, big guy? *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*

"Do not cling to events of the past or dwell on what happened long ago.  Watch for the new thing I am going to do.  It is happening already - you can see it now!  I will make a road through the wilderness and give you streams of water there."  (Isaiah 43)

I have carried this in my wallet for three years. 

Today is the first day....

Sour Grapes

So, you may have heard on Twitter that I was involved in a big storm last night.  From the news, I know I'm not alone, and that it has continued East, hitting the mid-Atlantic, in particular the DC area this morning. 

First, while I am about to complain / whine a little here, I know, in the bigger picture, things could have been much worse, and frankly, I am grateful that they weren't.  I realize, in the bigger picture of things, what happened at my house (big, huge ass neighbor tree plowing through front fence, and filling up tiny front yard, but missing the house) not really a big deal, not unusual, not "special", not earth-shattering, not end of world, not any of those things that the following words might suggest that I feel like it was.

I was at my contract site when the lights first started to flicker, and after the power went out, we all watched out the floor to ceiling windows as the storm came in somewhat quickly.

People were worried on their phones calling home making sure their loved ones were okay.  I checked on what few friends I have in the area, too, and we did the best we could to get in information with sporadic cell network coverage.  One poor woman felt silly when she was trying to get the radar to come up on her phone, and declared, "I have WiFi on! I don't know why it isn't loading?" "Um, dear," I politely informed her, "the wireless network kinda needs power to be useful."  "Oh... yeah...".

Eventually the storm died down enough where folks felt it was safe to travel, and non-essential folks were slowly sent home.  The power never came on before I left.  It was the end of the month, though, and certain sales people were anxious for the power to return to finish their sales and make sure they shipped out of the warehouse.  I imagine it didn't happen.

There came a point, though, where it seemed silly for me to still be hanging around.  I had nothing to contribute.  But, here I, at least, was amongst people, and the thought of going home and sitting alone in my house in the dark with my cell phone battery dying didn't seem like much fun either.

Plus, I was afraid what the neighboring tree might have done.

This neighboring tree reminds me a lot of the tree in Poltergeist.  (As a side note, go back and watch that as an adult - as a kid, I totally missed the parents toking on weed!).  Early on I learned not to park on the side of the street closest to the tree in front of my house because any small wind or storm was always a good excuse for it to drop a branch or two.  I liked my car the way it was.

And, sure enough, when I came home, the tree had CLEARLY dropped one of its big branches down in front of my house, taking out my front gate, and landing perilously close to the front porch.  Nothing, thank goodness, hit the house.

So, there I was about to go into this dark powerless house alone while winds and rain were still stirring a bit, and just wait for the rest of the tree to come down into the house? 

Um, no..

I didn't like the plan much before the tree was a player in the party, I certainly had no desire to stick around then.  So I packed a small bag, got in my car, and headed West towards the sunshine, intent on staying with a friend who lived thirty minutes west. 

An hour or two later, I received the text message and the calls from town saying the power was finally back on, and since when I arrived at my friend's home, I discovered the sleeping quarters were going to be more cramped than I had hoped, I quickly took off for home. 

I detoured around and checked out other friends' homes and the destruction in their yards, too.  Again, not anxious to face, again, the tree.

And as I'm driving up the block to my home, I am looking around at my neighbors homes and yards.  And they are ALL clean.  The only destruction whatsoever on or to the block was at my home.  I gotta admit, that kinda annoyed me, too, and so at #wineparty last night, during my brief visit, I often had the hastag #crankypants attached.

But, I have power, my own bed, no holes in the roof, so I am, for the most part, happy.  Just a little cranky... too.

This morning I took my sweet time heading out to the front to try and figure out what to do.  I had no burning desire to go attack it - and in the end, that turned out to be a good thing.  Sometimes procrastination is good!

I looked at it.  Took a few more pictures.  Sent a few more messages to friends saying, "I have no idea even where to begin."  Got out what few tools I had.  Picked up a few sticks and started to pile them.  Scratched my head.  Got hotter and hotter because the heat wave is back.  Hacked up another plant that had fallen over.  And in the middle of that, my landlord drives up.

I was just thinking of him.. wondering if he had a chainsaw, if he'd come by.  I had sent him picture by text last night.  But I am one of fifty properties he owns, and one of twelve, apparently that were damaged.  He told me to leave it be, and I didn't need to be told twice.  He took pictures for insurance, and then told me how high a deductible he had.

I comment, positively, well, at least it didn't hit the house.  To which he replies, "Would have been better if it did and burned the whole house down to the ground..."

I'm thinking, and I actually say out loud, "Um, maybe for you....? But not so much for me.."

And then he drove off and I putzed with the wild plant for a little longer and thought about what he said.

What would I do if the house had burned down?  Would I even stay in this small town, or take it as a sign that it was time to start over?  Where would I start over?  What would I do?

I spend time in life, and even here on the blog a little, justifying why I live in a small town and that I like it.  But I admit I began to wonder if my hooplah over living here was some sort of Aesopian "sour grapes" justification for being here. 

I don't know, to be honest.  I know that we need to appreciate what we have, and that I do.  Tree in my front yard and all.  Maybe this isn't the best place for me, and maybe it is.  I don't know.  But it is where I am at, and until the tree takes the house out and makes the landlord happy (?),  I'll stick around a bit longer and do my best to enjoy it.