“So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling, on tiptoes and no luggage, not even a sponge bag, completely unencumbered.” – Aldous Huxley
Me? Throw away my baggage? But it’s so pretty and sparkly…
Speaking of the pretties, I got engaged! I know, you say to yourself, “Not surprising, considering how much you were like, ‘Waaa, why don’t I have a ring yet? Waaaaa.'” … but I was. I was so surprised instead of saying yes immediately I told my loveable boyfriend to shut up. Repeatedly. It turns out that that whole “jeweler taking two weeks off” thing was true, but the store electroplated the metal from the ring in the store (so instead of the ring being rose gold, it looked silver. I don’t know how they did it; probably some complicated process involving teeth whitener or something). So, I got proposed to with a ring I’d eventually have to trade in for the one that was originally ordered, went on vacation, came back from vacation, and promptly quit my fucking job.
(And that, dear friends, is why my boyfriend proposed. So that I could quit my job and use my “good news: engaged! bad news: quitting!”. He actually listens to me, sometimes.)
Quitting my job had been a pipedream for many years; I made good money but I was miserable 99% of the time. Most of that I likely brought on myself, but the environment was hellishly toxic. Near the end of 2015, Paul and I talked about moving to Indianapolis, where his family is from, and where my sister was nearby (she then moved to Michigan… ain’t that about a bitch). I figured it was still “cityish” so that moving from Chicago wouldn’t be that big of a deal, and there was no love lost in leaving Chicago anyway: too much political bullshit, so many deaths, so much inaction. It was time. So, we quit our respective jobs, spent the next week packing, and took the plunge.
We found a charming two-bedroom for slightly more than we’d pay in Chicago just outside the city. I hear Indianapolis is nice, but so far I haven’t explored. Money is necessary for that, and so far neither one of us has a job. Oh, also, I’d have to drive to get anywhere. Gone are the days of walking my happy ass to Starbucks… or, walking anywhere, really. I’ve driven a couple times but it makes me crazily anxious (and, honestly, quite a bitch – I see death flash before me every time I start the car. It’d make anyone cranky… right?). But, to give you an idea, I’ve gotten lost just driving around our complex.
Paul wants to be helpful by pulling out maps and shit, but my brain doesn’t comprehend spatial awareness. It happily checks out and sings fuckin’ showtunes. Paul, on the other hand, game-player-extraordinaire, has probably had this ability since his time in the womb. I’ll admit it; I’m jealous, FINE.
So, we spend our time looking for jobs (I try not to nag him too much, especially when – left to my own devices – I’m rather lazy). I’m trying to motivate us to FOLLOW OUR DREAMS!!!!! But really what’s been happening is that I’ve been applying for whatever might make me money, I get rejected, I fall further into the pit of despair, and then am like: WHO NEEDS AN OFFICE JOB AMIRITE.
I’ve thus been looking into freelance work, which is madness. But, like they say, you wanna write? Then write. I just need to find someone to write for who will pay me the money I so desperately require.
The aforementioned laziness gets in my way, but I’m slogging through it (and it’s fucking terrible!!!!). Whoever came up with the idea that you need to work to make things work is just… well, I’m shaking an angry fist at you. I’ll also try to keep up more regularly with my personal writings (poor blog. you always suffer.) and someday I might even write that book I write so much about but never write (you ever get the feeling like there’s no more left to write?). I’m really trying to stay positive, which is hard because my brain just loves the sadness so very much!
In the meantime, we watch Buffy and Angel (this was discussed on our very first date, and I’m delighted that my diabolical plan has taken effect), and play RPGs (at the suggestion of my music teacher, I’ve taken up the Dragon Age series, but I was bummed in the first game because I couldn’t get Alistair to like me enough to sleep with me. I kept throwing gifts at the dude like, “LOVE ME!” but he was like, “Get back, rogue!” and at the end I killed myself in despair – and also, heroism. By the way, that’s not the object of the game. Paul played it and slept with TWO bitches. TWO. And they say chivalry is dead).
The most exciting thing that has happened so far is that our bedroom window fell out of the frame and scared the shit out of me in the middle of the night last night. I guess it wasn’t latched in correctly. Paul fixed it and was like, “Okay, sleepy times!” but I regarded it with distrust and stayed up for about six more hours.
Indiana, I feel you’re gonna be interesting…
Have a good day, friends. Be kind to yourselves.