Tuesday, December 4th. 2012.
How did that happen?
Wasn’t it just yesterday that I was in Ten Sleep, Wyoming, dunking my head into a freezing cold river and considering it my shower for the week? What happened to my swollen ankle, my bum shoulder, my levator scapulae, are those all healed now? Why do I have skin on my fingers, and is that…no…can that actually be makeup on my eyes? Did I really just drink a green smoothie for breakfast and do I smell shampoo in my hair?
What are these holiday party invitations addressed to me…since when do I have an address?
What is that in my bank account? Is that…money? I mean, not a lot of money, by any means, but…some? What is this day planner thing, and why is it semi-full with things to do, like working at the climbing gym and teaching yoga and meetings with people to…network?
Okay, so I’m still leaving every chance I get, to go down to Bishop, but it’s amazing how drastically your life can change in a matter of months. Of weeks. Of minutes. In a flash, sometimes. One day you’re this, the next you’re that.
I won’t lie–I have been having quite a hard time being back in the city. And when I say city, you probably think of something like New York, but no, I’m speaking of Berkeley mainly, because that’s where I spend most of my time and that’s where I work. I feel…disconnected. From myself.
I don’t think Berekely is to blame for this. I have been applying, like crazy, for a real job. Or at least one that will support my desire to move out of my Mom’s house. I’ve applied for all kinds of positions–social media manager, after school tutor, office assistant at physical therapy practices, director of marketing, ghost writer, editor, content creator, the list of jobs I would be less-than-stoked to get goes on. And every day, I wake up, and force myself to apply to a few more jobs. Force. I hate it. I hate the process. I hate the fact that deep down, after an hour of writing a new cover letting and tweaking my resume, I know that I’m never going to hear back from this company. And I hate that I don’t really care about getting the job anyway, because all of these jobs seem boring and lame and all I want is the paycheck.
In the past few years, I’ve applied to well over 100 jobs. Out of all of them I have heard back from three–one saying yes, we would love to hire you, but you aren’t going to get paid. And two saying, thank you for your interest but we have already filled the position.
I have to be doing something wrong.
Maybe my resume is shitty? Maybe my cover letter is shitty? Maybe I’m shitty, maybe my college major was shitty and maybe all the work experience I have is really just a bunch of shitty shit?
Or maybe, just maybe, the jobs I’m applying to are shitty.
Shitty for me, that is. I think some people could do the jobs I’m applying for and be really happy and use the job as a way to help people and this world.
I got a message from Maggie this morning, one of the handful of women I know who not only understands but also acts on the desire to constantly be climbing or in the mountains. We talked about The Cycle: move back home, apply for shitty real jobs, get a few fun side jobs, make a little money, get rejected from all real jobs, and then….bail. Leave. Go climbing. And then when you’re out of money, start over.
Just hearing from her made me want to leave. But it also made me realize something else, something more important–I am applying for the wrong jobs. Doing a job just for the money is not who I am. It is highly inconvenient and sometimes annoying, but it’s just not me. I am not one of those people who can just suck it up. At least not right now, I’m way too young and stubborn for that.
No wonder I have been feeling so off. At times, even miserable. So unmotivated. So un-psyched. Not me, not at all. The trips to Bishop help, a lot, but after a few days of being back here, the stoke wears off and I’m back into the funk.
WAKE UP GEORGIE. With this year coming to an end, a year of doing nothing but traveling and being true as hell to myself, why have I fallen back into this cycle? Oh well. At least I’m aware of it. It’s a practice.
I asked myself this question this morning–what do you want to do? If you could make money doing ANYTHING, what would it be? And the answer was clear–somehow combine yoga, climbing, and the outdoors to help people heal. Heal from addictions, behavioral issues, abuse, eating disorders, trauma, PTSD, stress, being a part of this crazy world. I’ve always known I want to do that. I have no idea why I haven’t acted on it more so.
Oh well. At least I’m aware of it. It’s a practice.
Thanks Maggie for the message, thank you for reading, thanks climbing and yoga for keeping me true to myself and making me feel extremely miserable when I’m not acting like myself, thanks Mom and Dad for putting up with me and loving me, thanks to all of my friends, thanks Bishop, and thank you 2012.
And happy holidays. Love to you all.