Janelle, Overworked.

When I was very young, as young as nine or ten, I dreamed of a career empowered lifestyle in which I would have a beautiful home, beautiful clothes, a beautiful silver and white long-haired cat, and a wonderful man in my life. I worked very hard in school, following the example set by my hard-working parents, my mind set on making the highest grades possible in order to become-- a surgeon. I envisioned my home being filled with friends on weekends, having come by invitation to attend lavish dinner parties, followed by group discussions about the books we were reading. (Ok, so I was a nerd, and probably remain one today.)

As I got older, I slowly began to realize that to become surgeon required much more demand (on me personally) than I was willing to put into it. This has much more to do with the fact that by junior high I was more interested in the social life aspect of my earlier dreams than I was having the highly regarded career. As time progressed, my party-girl attitude began to change again; once I found myself in mid-way through my junior year of high school, I assessed my grades and behaviors during the past few years, and realized that they were not good enough. I had allowed myself too much fun, and now I was going to suffer the consequences. I found myself in a state college not that there is anything wrong with that; I had started out my life with a different goal in mind) and eventually graduated with a degree in business.

Now, it seems that I work constantly, make less than I had dreamed. I have obtained a wonderful place to live (although it is a condo and not a house), and a small, very patient dog, who waits for my return each day. I HAD (yes had as in no longer HAVE) a great man in my life, who wanted to be with me, and was usually tolerant--if not understanding--of the demands placed on my by my employer (and past employer, which included a lot of traveling for me as well as telephone conference calls on weekends). Eventually, I felt that I had to choose. The problem stems from the fact that I am reluctant to completely trust anyone with my heart, due to a history of bad choices of men in the past. This includes one man that I dated for three years, before he proposed to me and then two months before the wedding he simply left town.

Each relationship started out well... and would end in one of two ways: he would eventually claim that I was pressuring him; OR he would suddenly turn cold and ignore me (maybe in an attempt to get me to dump him so he wouldn't have to dump me, which I would usually do... EVENTUALLY. With A., it was different. He tolerated the demands of my job, since he has a demanding job as well (in addition to having custody of his daughter). For the first time in my life, I had someone who wanted to be with me, and I am sure would not wait until things came down to the wire before skipping town. He wanted me to be part of his every day life... and when he asked me, I freaked out and moved to Boston. Twice. We are currently living in the same city again, and now he is the one that seems reluctant to trust me. (Understandably).

All of the details of THAT story are actually on this weblog - it is pretty much ALL there, the whole sordid history.Tonight A. and I are going out to dinner and a movie. I convinced him that it is time for him to try SUSHI and then we plan to go see The Happening. I'll update this again soon-- meaning before six months pass.

Oh, I'm coming back, allright.

very soon.

What New Things will Spring Bring?

FINALLY, I have found a way out.

Out of my current job, out of Boston. Out of my small, dark, lonely apartment. Out of the bottle a weekend wine habit I have developed. Out of comfort-carb eating, out of guilt induced treadmill marathons.

My job here ends March 27.
My new job starts April 10.
Somewhere in-between I will move back home.

A. returns my phone calls--strategically. (He calls my home when he knows I am at work; when he knows I am out with friends, or when he knows I am most likely stuck in traffic somewhere.)

The person leasing my Hillsboro condo has been notified of my intention to return; she informed me that she is getting married in April, and is planning to move anyway.

Right now, I am watching the movie High Fidelity. I adore this movie. I have eaten too much today, but I think/feel that my choices were healthy (overall). Even with that thought, I have to run.

Sick and Tired

Just as one cold nears the end of its life (usually about a week and a half for me), someone else in the office comes to work, germs in tow, sniffling and hacking and sneezing. What this means for me is that my body has no time to recover from the cold of Christmas past before I get the New Year's Eve cold, followed by the MLK day Flu.

As the manager of the office, I plead with these idiots on a regular basis:
Don't come to work if you are sick. You get paid sick days--USE THEM.

Do they listen? No.

I am finally starting to feel alive again, but I no longer love my job. I am tired of the people that work with me. I am tired of their stupid petty arguments and inability to get along. I mean, you only have to be in the same building with eachother for eight hours, can't you just put these issues (which are not even remotely related to the actual job you SHOULD BE DOING) aside?

I'm thinking about taking a vacation. :-)