It Must Be Nice

Today I quit my gym.

I do this every year when it starts to warm up and running outside doesn't make me want break down into a sobbing mess. I did it early this year, because in 2 weeks I am moving to Paris until the end of April, and when I get back it should be spring in Pittsburgh.

(If we're still experiencing polar vortexes in April, I am convincing the EU to grant me a visa and am not coming back.)

Anyway, the gym manager of course asked me why I was ending my membership, and I told him about Paris, and how I have a job that allows me to work from where I want, so I was taking advantage of that.

"Must be nice," he replied. He said this twice in our brief conversation actually.

To which I smiled and said, "It is. I'm really excited."

Because it is nice. In fact, it is thrilling. I can't quite believe that this is my life right now, because this kind of thing - picking up and moving to Paris for funsies - is something I thought about, and read about, but didn't think would actually happen to me.

Much of my life now consists of things that for a while I didn't think would happen to me.

And it didn't just happen. I didn't just wake up one morning with a job that required travel and therefor gave me airline mileage points so that I could accrue a free flight to France. I didn't suddenly have a job structured in a way with colleagues who trust me enough for me to leave the continent for 5 weeks and still operate business as usual. I didn't suddenly have a job I find invigorating and fulfilling and that challenges me.

All of this took time and effort and sacrifice and the trust and support of a lot of people. And it could all go away very quickly.

It is worth it though. So worth it. Building a life you really want is worth every moment of fear and stress. It is worth every breakdown, every panic attack, every time you question 'what did I get myself into?'

Things like moving to Paris, or landing your dream job, or running 150 miles in the desert don't just happen. The people who do those things rarely just get lucky and find themselves in the midst of that kind of situation. Those experiences are hard to get to. So hard, that they seem impossible until it's happening. So hard, that even when you are experiencing so much joy from doing that impossible thing, there will still be fear and doubt and uncertainty.

If you want it though, it's worth it. Or at least worth what you learn in the process of trying.

Life is too short for "must be nice"'s.

Do the work. Make the time. Save the money. Experience what must be nice.

Life Lately...

is so sweet.

And I'd like to take just a second to acknowledge that.  Because it is so easy to get wrapped up in nonsense that isn't real problems. And because I usually take the viewpoint of wanting to live like a shark - constantly moving or else I'll die.

And sure, I don't have a lot of money. I don't have a car. My hair needs a trim, my bed isn't made, I could/should probably weigh 5 lbs less, I'm single, and I spend a good deal of time worrying that I'm frivolously wasting my defining decade and that I'll wake up in my early 30's horrified at the life I've built for myself.

But today after I wrapped up a day of work at a job I love, I went for a run, and then I walked home and read a magazine on my front porch while it poured rain, and drank a glass of wine. And I was happy.

My Music Taste...

Is eclectic like everybody's.

However, if I'm honest, I love music that is emotional. Sometimes a little angry, sometimes a little sad, and definitely wordy. Good lyrics will get me every time.

Anyways, sometimes I forget that not everyone likes to feel angst y as a result of listening to music. Precisely and I have very different tastes in music and he would tease me regularly.

Last winter I was getting ready for a date, and Precisely wandered by my room.

"oh my god," he said, "what are you listening to?"

"What?" I said, paused mid-eyeliner application. I don't remember what was playing, but apparently primping to whatever it was, was not appropriate in Chris's opinion.

"Kelsey! Don't listen to that!"

"What? Why not?!"

"You're getting ready for a date! You need something to put you in a good mood, not something depressing."

"But I am in a good mood!"

"Someone is taking you out! You should be listening to something energetic, that makes you happy, and feel sexy. Not the black-hole that is your music collection."

He came in and put on something he deemed a more appropriate soundtrack.

This week, half of the Thread team has been in Haiti. Meaning I've had the office largely to myself, as Lee likes to work from coffee shops in the morning.

It's still September, and it's been a rainy dreary week, and I've been knee deep in writing, and so have been listening to a lot of sad music.  The way I see it, sad music is kind of like a double negative, and by listening and wallowing in it, I actually feel strangely comforted and happy. If I want to wallow in the artificial sadness Mazzy Star and Firghtened Rabbit provide, I will. Sorry I'm not sorry.

Anyways, On Tuesday, Lee called me out for playing depressing music. And then today, he came in in the afternoon, while I was knee deep in newsletter editing accompanied by...you guessed it - sad music!

"Turn off the sad music, "Lee joked as he walked in.

"But, I'm having such a lovely time," I argued.

"mehhhhhhhhhhhh," was Lee's response.

I looked at my itunes, and stifled a laugh. "But, this song is called 'Not Miserable'!"

"Did you do that on purpose?" Lee asked.

"No!" I laughed, "I can't make this stuff up."

All my other sad or angry or angst y music junkies out there, you know what I'm talking about. 

Part of a Well-Balanced Life

First of all, I'll begin with saying that I am fine.

Better than fine even, good, maybe great.

I'm emphasizing this because my Mom called me last week to make sure I was fine, as Moms are want to do, and even though I was fine, I was also in the midst of September sadness, and I'm sure she intuited that because she has a way of knowing everything, even from 400 miles away, which is a trait I hope I inherit when I become a parent, so that I can freak my kids out as much as she does me. (Anyway Mom, if you read this know that I'm good - love you!)

So, let's talk for a minute about September sadness. I'm not sure what it is - whether it's the change in daylight hours, the drop in temperature, the change in schedules that came with going back to school, but I get sad in September.  This has been happening since high school. It's only in the past couple of years that I've really been able to recognize the pattern (better late than never).  It doesn't last too long, just a couple of weeks in the middle of the month, and it's not in any way debilitating, just makes me more apt to think my way into downward-hate-spirals, and cry more often for no good reason.  I also know that I am not alone in this, and have been reading about other people coping with September, and its comforting to know that there is company in your craziness.

It's already lifting, and now that the equinox has happened I am ready to embrace fall with all the pumpkin spiced lattes and beer and baked goods and boots and capes and glorious long runs, and extra blankets on my bed. October is here next week.

I was having coffee with a friend last week, and mentioned this, and we started talking about feelings, and downward-hate-spirals, and the crazy thought processes that takes you from a well-adjusted logical person, to one who is convinced you've messed up your entire life in under 60 seconds.

"The thing I dislike about sadness," I said, "Is that I can't channel it into anything productive."

She smiled and said, "Unless you consider a well-balanced life, and allowing yourself time to process and be reflective productive.  Those aren't bad things. Careful, your high D is showing."

(If you are familiar with the DiSC personality profile, then you know that she was right. I am, it was.)

And so she made an excellent point.  And maybe it's time that I stop viewing September as the month when I get sad, and embrace it for the month that I get introspective and reflective, and process.  Because having that time is part of a well-balanced life.