I write in a hand-written journal every day now, and realize I’ve been neglecting this here blog! Well, honestly I’ve attempted to write a few different posts, but they’ve mostly gone nowhere because the passion behind them didn’t stick around past one or two paragraphs. Hopefully that changes this morning.
Today is my last day of being (technically) unemployed. Technically in that I have picked up as many pet-sitting gigs as possible, and had the fortune of working at a fantastic doggy daycare where I hope to return on weekends when I can. I haven’t really talked about it much, but I haven’t had a concrete, full-time+benefits job since mid-July. To say I truly loved my job would be an understatement, however sometimes no matter how much you love something, it’s simply not meant to be (everything happens for a reason, when one door closes, blah-blah platitudes that people tell you that make you want to eat glass but eventually sometimes you’re like “ok yes you’re right but also shhhhhh”).
The timeline of events in my life from mid-July to now, early September, is jam packed with such greatness – reconnecting with friends, lots of animal snuggles, and perhaps most surprisingly for me, truly appreciating Chicago for the first time in what feels like (and probably is) years. It’s been filled with crap, too, as you might imagine, because even though life contains so much joy and incredible moments, you have to slog through a lot of shit to get to the joyful incredible bits as well. It gets tedious. It is exhausting. But those not so great moments reminded me to be sure to create some positive moments when I could – text a friend to meet up for coffee, go pick out a new book from the library, or head outside for a wander and see where my feet decided to take me that day.
In the past several weeks (which feel like they’ve been months), I’ve fallen in love with my city. I didn’t expect it, but during my last multi-state travel extravaganza, my longing for Chicago began. It was odd, to suddenly feel so drawn to a city I’d always delighted in leaving, the city in which I (generally and metaphorically) hung my hat. The city I moved to with so much hope, only to have that hope demolished within 6 months. The city I stayed in, for what I’d felt at times, was at least 4.5 years too long. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to run through every neighborhood and ring all the doorbells, asking what day it was and what city we were all residents in. My Scrooge-like curse had been lifted and I was ready to give my city the love and respect I’d neglected in doing so all of this time.
I’m fairly certain that, instead of switching states, I’ll be moving no further than a few miles away from my current apartment this Spring, to a new neighborhood. I was fortunate to be offered a job with which I’m rather pleased, and incredibly curious to see how life unfolds as I move forward on this new, unexpected adventure. But for now, I am home and Chicago is that home. The next year will surely be telling as to whether or not I’ve made the right choice, but my heart is so in it, and while my heart’s been known to lead me astray on occasion, it never fails to remind me that it should be left to lead, unabashedly and unafraid, no matter what. Heart over-rides brain, forever and ever, amen.
As of Monday, I’ll awake at about the same time I would pre-mid-July, but I’ll get all business-casualed up (which includes sparkley shoes, thank you very much, but ‘reasonably’ colored hair, sad trombone) and hop on a train with oodles of other Chicagoans to head to my new office downtown. It’s a pretty dramatic change, even having formerly worked downtown for many years. I’m excited to take up my 9-5 residency in an iconic building every day to report for a new job that I’m keen to say I’m looking forward to starting. I’m excited. I’m a bit scared. I’m ready.