Goodbye to my Old Life

I never thought that things would change. That was really in the nature of my lifestyle, that things were so planned, so predictable that any change was so expected and by that account, gradual, that barring a few breaks and milestones, nothing was ever really different.

All of that is changing, very fast, which in and of itself is almost the most significant part.

I jumped ship mid-semester to move 1000 miles from home. Two months later I am leaving the job I relocated for and moving across states again to live with a man I've known for almost exactly that amount of time, in an apartment I've never been in, in a city I've never been to, with no job lined up whatsoever. Even more haphazard than the last.

I was wont to say that this time, I'm moving to something, not from something; I am no longer running away, but chasing something I want. But those are not as dissimilar as they sound, that or I have been fooling myself. But to be honest, I think I am running from something, here in Denver; loneliness. Spending the summer cooped up in an apartment with me, myself and my medical school applications was not something I was particularly looking forward to; worse, sinking my money into an embarassing and invasive procedure with no source of hugs during the ordeal. I am, perhaps, running away from myself, from the person I am when I am completely alone; morose, unanimated, unmotivated. Even though too much interaction with people can drain me, I need a little to keep me going. Kind of like my fuel-injected motorcycle; too much gas can choke me, but I still need a little. There's a perfect balance. Maybe living with a man that spends half his time on business trips will give me both the companionship and the solitude that I require. But believe that I love him, I don't want him to be away... at least, not because I don't like him. It's just a consequence of my personality, as best I can put it. But I do fear that I will smother him when he gets home. I need outside activities, outside friends. I should take a class, or get a part time job. Just not teaching again, for the love of God. Tutoring was good; high pay on low hours, maybe enough to cover my part of the rent.

I'm really jumping through a lot of topics. I didn't sit down with any particular post in mind, only the idea that it's been a while since I've written, and I'm going through a lot of life changes, and that's usually a good time to write. At least, those are the times you want to read about later. And I happen to find myself with an unexpected period of really nothing to do. I'm going to California tomorrow, probably not for the last time but the last time that I can foresee for any particular purpose for the moment.

I don't think I have the charisma to do what he does. There's no reason to fly me around the world, or even around the country. But maybe there will be. Maybe I can change that. Maybe I will get back into teaching, just at a higher calibur. I think I'd like a Master's Degree in Chemistry. I'd like to teach the thing that was the most difficult for me to learn. Honestly, that makes the most sense. I feel like I'm terrible at teaching math because it always came naturally to me, more or less. How can you help somebody who doesn't understand it, to understand it, if you've always understood it yourself? But that's a post all it's own.

Anyways. I'm graduating with my bachelor's degree, in a science, from a high calibur university. Even if I never accomplish anything higher academically in my life, I will always be able to find work. And while that's a standard that I've never considered, a bar that's always been so beneath me I've never bothered to think about it my eyes have been opened to the realities of the world. I wish that my parents had given me an allowance instead of a credit card, some point of reference for the painfully slow flow of income, how quickly expenses add up. I was always frugal but inevitably with daddy's credit card I learned to spend without any real appreciation for the sum. Now that I've worked a job and paid my rent from it, watching the number flux, I begin to appreciate what everyone else has been talking about, how truly difficult it is to work "for a living." Because it really is "to live." The bottom line has come into focus. My parents had always done that for me and it isn't until the age of 22, almost 23 that I begin to realize that if I were truly on my own, this would be it. Medical school would be a far-off dream, not a round-the-corner reality. But what would be so wrong with that?

I truly believe that I am capable of taking better care of my body than my parents ever did of theirs. Whether or not I will is the pertinent question. Because if I keep good care of myself, I will be young for a very long time, and there's no reason that I have to rush into a decision, or a profession. I only get to live once, and life is not very long, so I always thought that I had to choose right away and get a move on to make my time here on Earth worth anything. But it isn't so. Now more than before or after I am free to wander, free to discover what this big beautiful world is really all about, what my place in it should be. To presume that I know enough to presume that wasting away in medical school for four years, plus residency after that, is my best and highest use now seems folly. Not to say that it would be a waste; I think I would enjoy myself, and I think I would make great contributions after that. But so could someone else, whom, in my displacing, may not figure out to do the things that I would do if I forewent medical school. Fill the gaps.

Anyways. Returning to my original point. My pre-planned life is gone. I am not quite in free fall, not by any realistic standards. I still have a plan, an indefinite plan in which more planning is not immediatley required. I plan that is about to land me in a very comfortable position, realistically. I may find that I enjoy luxury much more than I had ever imagined. I may find that I never want to live without it again. I feel it slightly more likely that after the first week or two, I will find it extremely uncomfortable, and then perhaps I'll get used to it, but I don't think I'll have a problem going back to a more... Spartan lifestyle after that. Though perhaps some could look at my current lifestyle and call it anything but Spartan... it's all about perspective. I'm going off topic again. For the first time in my life, I don't know where I'm going to be in 6 months, and I'm happy about that. I am completely okay with figuring things out. I need to experiment, I need to feel out all my options so that I can be happy with the one that I finally choose.

What if I choose him? What if we choose each other for life? I feel both old and young in the same moment, knowledgeful and ignorant, full of experience and open to new possibilities. Perhaps this is what "prime" is. It would seem almost inappropriate that my adventures in romance would end so early, with him, and yet anything with him cannot be anything but an adventure.

I have never felt so strongly of divine intervention. I am no longer angry or upset about anything that ever happened to me, because it all led to him; any little thing changed would not have resulted in that fateful meeting. In my soft, fluffy free-fall in the spring of 2014, he is by far the best part. And the other parts are pretty fucking good, all said.

I'm not scared. I feel as if I should be, but I'm not. Perhaps this is the second of many spurrious moves across country; perhaps there will be spurrious moves across national borders in my future. I cannot say. But all this is much more in line with the person I always thought I would be. Then again, I can't really remember in this moment, the person I always thought I would be. But I do feel a lot happier. Being a leaf in the wind seems much more fitting. Plans always felt like fetters and chains. Freedom never felt so powerful. Perhaps that just a privileged white American cant on the whole thing, but I will get where I need to be, one way or another, and throw starfishes back into the sea. One way or another I will be an innovator, a leader, and I hope to have someone to stand beside me through all of it. But if not, that's okay too. Being led by the hand is how I got my start, but it doesn't have to be how I finish, or even reach my peak.

Calling All My Shit - I am the Thumbtack

Okay, so that last post was kind of bullshit. Getting my hair cut wrong devastated my confidence and I am barely holding my own shit together, without trying to make waves. I haven't established a good enough reputation to do that. I had the good fortune of making some major screw-ups in my first private-sector job, in a company that I will probably never work for again, in an industry that I will probably never work in again. But I also learned some of my strengths. I learned what I need to become to be a stellar employee (which I am not. Yet.).

But here's something a little bit bizarre, and I feel okay sharing this on this forum. I'm likeable. My coworkers, and quite a few of my students, like me. I don't know that I ever thought I was particularly unlikeable, but there is a level of warmth that I wasn't expecting.

I am also (finally) learning this skill that other people seemed to learn a lot more quickly: networking. With people, with computers, basically any two things that can connect, I'm finally stringing up the lines. Just this past week I put together tutor and tutoring client, because I am a trusted resource, a thumbtack in the corkboard of my industry. I put people together who otherwise never would have found each other. I am also cognizant of the needs of my industry; I take care of my clients before I take care of my friends. I will not create a reputation for bad quality of service. For some reason I am more proud of this accomplishment than I am of many things that have recently been happening in my life; maybe the realization that I really was the best solution to the problem, that this could not have happened so well without me.

It's very possible that I was so successful in this arena because it was all by text and none of the parties involved saw my awful haircut.

There's a certain unwholesome sub-human in my life... not anymore, in my past I should say. People would call on it to provide services, make connections, and when it didn't come through, they would have to solve the problem themselves. And in the process, they would discover that they didn't need it at all. But if this thing had come through, had solved the problem, they would have come to rely on it. They would have called it back again and again; it would have become an invaluable resource, because they would never learn to do these things without it. That's what I'm setting myself up for; to become invaluable. To be the shortcut that my clients always know will get them to where they need to go faster than if they tried it themselves.

I will probably never charge finder's fees to my old clients. I've always said that owed favors are worth more than money. That philosophy is evolving a little bit. I don't think that they will ever owe me favors. But as I strengthen my connections with each of them, I increase my access to their networks. And solid networks are gold. This world runs on money, that's true, but money runs thorugh people; you have to know people, and get along with them, to succeed. They have to trust you. And trust is transferable. The friend of my friend is my friend. My old clients trust the person I refer to them because I say he is trustworthy; their trust in me is transferred to him. And frankly, I originally found him on craigslist; I didn't actually know if he was any good until I tried him out on another client. But they vouched for him, so now I vouch for him. Interestingly, I had first given that substitution to a friend from school; he screwed it up. I will never refer him to a client again.

And that is why I am so worried about screwing up at this job, even though I don't plan on coming back. These people can still vouch for me. Whether or not they do is based on a relatively short window of interaction. I have two months. But the last guy, the guy who screwed up, he only had a week. Maybe it was just a bad week. Doesn't matter. The consequences are there.

Moral of the story; there is never an excuse for low performance, especially when you only have a brief period to make or break your image with a group of people. I'm not a particularly high-influence person. But when a client needed help, and an industry-acquiantance needed a job, I was able to put them together. For those two people, I AM important. Making a good impression to me can be the difference between getting much-needed help and not, getting much-needed work and not. I am a thumbtack, holding together many bits of colored string. In my line of work, in my industry, people want to be connected to me. That gives me power. The more I use it to do a good job, the more power I will have, because the more people will rely on me.

This probably sounds bizarre, and I want to clarify that while I may be a bit power-hungry, I am using it to the utmost good. I have no interest in using my power to harm people. Insure my own security? Maybe. Forward my goals? Absolutely. But what are my goals? The betterment of the lot of all mankind. That goal can be dangerous, depending on who you ask, but I think, so far, I'm a pretty benevolent force in the universe. People want powerful benevolent forces on their side. Isn't that why we pray to God?