Off

It’s been almost three weeks since I’ve written last. I’ve been off the grid. Seriously off the grid. Very limited phone reception. Almost no internet. Just me and my car and 2400 miles of highway between me and wherever-it-is I was supposed to be the next day (yeah…perhaps I’ve mentioned that I travel?) Alone with only a book on tape (p.s. as much as I adore Stephen King, “Blaze” is a big skipper), my thoughts, and random, staticy NPR stations fading in and out of reception as I traversed the Midwest (what a friend of mine used to call Central America in an attempt to make me laugh.) I spent nights in shady hotels along darkened interstates, in sleeping bags under stars in state parks, and finally at my father’s small home nestled in the heart of our nation’ farm country.

This time was spent driving to see friends and family. This time was spent returning to my childhood home to visit with my childhood best friend and her family. This time was spent having quality conversations with my beloved father. This time was spent doing work for my current job and for the organization I do volunteer work with. It was spent finding old friends and meeting new friends. And all of this was very very good.

But friends, I have to admit: I am off. Not just off the grid, though I’m sure that’s contributed to my sense of offness. I’m off my schedule. Off my health. Off my game. (Possibly off my rocker?)

I’ve always known that I am a creature of habit. I like schedules and order. I’m predictable, and I’m ok with that. So when I travel (which I have mentioned is often, yes?) even this momentary change of scenery (that is not at all glamorous by the way, for those who feel it necessary to covet my expeditions) throws a monkey wrench in my mental schedule. I get off my routine. And all of this is not so good.

When I talked to friends about coming home from this, my final trip of the summer, I was mostly excited about having a regular sleep schedule again; about having a regular exercise schedule again; about *actually* going back ON the diet (that has definitely gone right on down the crapper in the last two weeks) and about writing the blog again… (Part of why I started writing this blog in the first place was so that I could have something to keep my mind busy; something to fill in the evening time so that I didn’t just sit around the house in the hours when I would normally be talking to J and think about the fact that I wasn’t actually doing that. I was acutely aware of this hole in my day on this trip. Being in your car alone with your thoughts for hours on end is good…until it isn’t.)

So yeah, no regular sleep (or location…or bed), no regular diet (though homemade donuts and ice cream topped my list of supreme cheats), no exercise and no regular writing… for me, missing these things on a daily basis is pretty significant. And it messes up my routine. And it makes me feel off.

But right now, even worse than that feeling of being off my schedule, is the feeling that I don’t really have a schedule to get off of. And ambiguity, dear readers, is not my friend. I feel as though I’m wandering a bit, lost in the proverbial forest of my life. All the trees are there and healthy and growing strong, but damn are they big…and they’re blocking my sunshine. And it just seems like I’m walking around the trees in little circles-- like that everything I’m doing with my life right now is just only teetering on the edge of progress, merely marking time in a period of my life that I so wish I was instead marching forward. The only thing worse to me than ambiguity in my life is stagnation.

I will go back to my regular ol’ job that starts here in a week or so, a job I had hoped I would not be returning to this fall. A job I have only half-heartedly been attending to over the summer months, because in the secret corners of my heart, I had truly hoped I would not be coming back. And on many levels, it will be really comforting to have that regular schedule again- familiar tasks, and predictable events. But somehow, going back, resigning myself TO that job (instead of FROM that job) feels a little like a failure ( I seriously need an attitude adjustment before my students come back…) After spending a good six months doing nothing but searching for jobs and having nothing to show for it, I gotta say, I’m not feeling professionally awesome. And I really don’t want that to show to my students when they return in a couple weeks.

And I *know* what you’re going to say. Blah blah, worst job market in years. Blah blah, recession blah. I got it. And I know that’s true. But when the one and only job where someone actually even had the courtesy to call back to mention they had received the application only did so in order to tell me that there were 200 more qualified people who had applied before me, it becomes pretty hard even in these tough times to not take that just a little bit personally.

I digress. Reliving it is not going to get me a new job or a better attitude. And I need both. Though right now, the latter seems of more importance.

And so, I start back again. No new job. No new apartment. No new city. Same faces. Same tasks. Same schedules in a lonely town that I am ready to leave. And for someone who appreciates routine, I guess I should be satisfied. Maybe instead of making grand life changes right this second, I should use this time to jump back on the horse. Re-establish the diet, and the exercise, and the sleep. Get back to writing each day, which I have so desperately missed. Get rid of this miserable cold that has me feeling like a woolen-mitten- donning Yeti has a death grip on my throat, causing my glands to rise up under my ears like someone squeezing sweet peas from their pod. Yes, maybe right now I just need to work on not being so off. Because a time is going to come very soon when I’m going to need to be very very ON. And it’s not as easy as flipping a light switch. I gotta crank this ol’ machine up slowly, lest it explode.

As is always the case, as I write this, I’m drawn to song lyrics. Now, this particular song lyric is completely out of context because in its original form it is about losing love, and hoping that there will be new love right around the bend, which clearly isn’t my case (I’ll keep J right here with me thank-you-very-much.) But even as I hear in my head Rowlf and Kermit sing “I hope that something better comes along” (the Muppets in all of their forms are sheer and utter genius, by the way. I will not be swayed in my opinion on this matter), I start to smile and realize that my offness, even in just last night’s sleep, today’s exercise and diet, and this evening’s writing, is starting to melt away. This little bit of normal has freed my head up to wander to things like the Muppets. This, is a good thing. Soon enough, I’ll be able to say GAME ON, and mean it. But for now, I sleep again, in my very own bed, and dream of better things coming along tomorrow. Joy doth cometh in the morning.