Patience and Tangents

It’s a test, I am sure. Life is trying that press on me again, where it is trying my patience before I really move forward with the next bit of my life. It just hits in the small, right ways that it knows to, and I am increasingly frustrated with it.There has been increasing pressure from work lately. Several of the executives are asking if I would personally moved to a campus in California (in Silicon Valley, specifically) to fix the IT support at a campus personally. They know I am capable of it, and so do I. I know it’d earn me brownie points. But I also have a feeling that my company would short me in compensation somehow, even though it’d only be for six to twelve months. They can’t pay for loss of sanity, and I know I’d lose it there as easily as I am here. I guess I shouldn’t say sanity; perhaps it is more of my flame that I am afraid of losing, and becoming just that husk that wanders from day to day.

I know, melodramatic. I also know that I am fairly far from such a stage of presence, where I mull through each day at work, just doing work and waiting for the opportunity to wait for the next work week, often referred to as the weekend. But I feel as if I am looking over that precipice now. I’ve been used before, that happened at Applebee’s. Regardless how different the work environment, or how different the pay, the end result is the same. I would feel hollow, and I cannot allow that again. I do not want to lose myself in a job. There is too much to do with this life, and the legacy I want to leave behind, no matter how few or how many people remember it.

I think about it for a bit. It might be selfish of me to try and enjoy this life for the most important person– me. I can’t fathom any other reason to really live, but I know that part of me enjoying life is having other (right) people in it. I want to have good people in my life, and I know that I will be leaving some of them behind here when I move to Seattle. I have two very, very dear friends that I will miss the most, and I am afraid of life and work preventing us from ever seeing each other again. I really am.

And so, these types of jabs into my personal stability continue. I think about these things, and I know that there is this negative side to life that always tries to rear its ugly head. It makes me think about this stuff. “Oh, you’re close to Seattle. What a shame it’d be if you were instead asked to move to California instead.” Yeah, six to twelve months. But I have a feeling that once that stint was done, the need for me in Seattle would no longer be present, and I’d have to move back to Arizona. That is a torturous thought on two fronts: not being able to leave Arizona, and not being able to live in a climate and amongst people that have (so far) been awesome.

I suppose another component to this paranoia is that I’ve been fighting to make this happen since June of last year. I’ve made it apparent why it’d be good for me to be up there. I’ve scouted for places to live. I’ve prepared to budget myself to the dime in the event I have to live somewhere expensive because other places aren’t available. There is so much I am willing to sacrifice to get up there, to live and work up there. I need to finish this bigger title of my life, and this chapter in Arizona has to close before I can write the next in the Pacific Northwest. I am hopeful that I’ll be able to move to Germany sometime soon– that I’ll have the work experience and recognition in the industry to get over there and get a job that I’d want. Germany is truly the next title in this book of mine.

But, as before when I went to visit Germany the first time, I am afraid that something will happen last minute and I’ll be unable to go there. It’ll be snatched away. I have this type of mentality because of my dreams, oddly enough. My own subconscious is sadistic enough to change a scenario in my dreams when I am close to achieving something so that it is different. There have been many times where I have laid in bed, eyes open after a dream, disappointed. It permeates my waking thoughts, as it does now.

So, all of this constant battering at the wall that holds my psyche stable and contained rattles me, and it seems to get louder with each thud. I become less centered and I feel parts of me wrest from outside my control a bit more. Looking for love in silly places, questioning my ability to do what I want or need, irresponsible financial spending… it starts adding up. I’ll try to recenter afterward– back to the calm for a moment before bam. Another slam on the wall from that battering ram made of my uncertainties and chaos.

When I do move, when I step myself into the moving truck that last time and I see my friends in the rearview mirror waving goodbye to me as I move far and away from them, I know I am going to cry. I’ll cry for a while. Hell, I am tearing up thinking about it now, as I have before. It’s this silly exercise I have of trying to practice it before it happens so it’s easier, but it never is– no matter how many times I play the scenario out in my head. I know I’ll have seen most of my friends at the going away parties I’ll throw, but I can guarantee that there will be two that I’ll see one last time in that mirror, and it’s going to hurt. I really never have had friends like them before, and I’ll miss them so much.

All of that last paragraph, right there. That was another hit from that battering ram. Gods, this sucks.

I just need to make it through, intact and well enough to get myself centered up there. I need to see my friends again, hang out with those two as much as I can and try to make the best of it before this chapter ends. I hope everyone knows how much I am going to miss them. I grew here, but it is time to carry on elsewhere. I can only count myself lucky if I find friends like what I had down here.

Thank you.

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