Symmetry

33 weeks down
20 weeks left
Still not talking about the diet.
10-ish months until the wedding

As I believe we have discussed here in these pages, I am a *fairly* Type A personality. I like order. I like structure. I like to have a plan. I like to see the plan through to fruition. And I work hard to have everything come out even in the end. If we add something here, we take it away over there. Life in balance. (If I liked math or had any money common-sense whatsoever, I would make an excellent bookkeeper.)

I’ve always tried hard to run my life that way. And I know what you’re thinking, all you crazy hippie friends of mine. “Life is about the journey!” “Relax and just go with it!” “Plans are made to be broken!”

Right, right. I get it. Life is unpredictable and messy and should be lived each day to the fullest. And I agree. And I’m just fine relaxing and breaking plans if that’s what the situation calls for. But I’m gonna go ahead and make the plan first. Deviating from the plan in one thing. Proceeding without a plan makes me nervous. (It’s so weird to me that people say I have control issues.)

For one who likes pattern and plans, I have to say that I’m quite happy that this, my last week here before the BIG move, is not only going to plan, but is eerily smooth (trying not to tempt fate.) Even more so, I’m noticing that I’m bookending my stay here in interesting ways—truly and literally, as it began, it shall end, with the stories from my time here held together by some matching marbled slabs on either side.

In a year full of turmoil, I was the first person to realize that there were about a thousand things that had to go RIGHT in order for this move to happen. And if tales from the year previous were any indication, it was unlikely that this would be possible. These were things I had no control over (which makes me twitchy). But as it turns out, these were the things I stumbled into; things that were just straight lucky and that no amount of planning could have aided.

First, find a job in a city where J could maybe work. Of all the applications I put out there, this is the one and only job I got a phone call for (well, a serious phone call. Two others kinda did courtesy calls/ phone interviews. But I was never really under consideration.)

When I called to say that I would take it, I realized that I had to immediately find a reasonably priced apartment in DC close to my work and magically find someone to take over my apartment lease here, lest I have to pay millions of dollars in maintaining two residences (Ha! Good luck, right?) And remarkably, those two things just fell into my lap with almost no effort at all: A friend knew a place in DC, and a friend here knew of a guy looking for a place. Done, and done.

There were a thousand little things revolving around finances that could have been a colossal pain in the ass (a couple of those are still up in the air a bit), but for the most part, all the big scary stuff there has worked itself out. I’ll have to have really tight purse strings for a couple of months, but I’ll make it. And while my job here is sad to see me go (I think) and I to leave them, I think we’ve both sorta resigned ourselves to the resignation.

As easy as it was to come in here, it will be for me to slip out. I have, like Elvis, left the building.

Just like with every move in my life (or every major event in my life, really) this last weekend, my father drove the 800 miles from where he lives to me in his mini-van and we loaded it up for round-one of the move-to-new-place. Every time, literally, every single time in my life I have gone through something major my dad has been there with me. And honestly, from a logistics standpoint, this is no small feat. He is amazing, and I love him for all he so readily volunteers for me.

We went to DC, signed my new lease, got the keys, and moved the first round of stuff into the new place. It is an amazingly adequate apartment, one that, A) I can’t believe is so close to work 2) I can’t believe is as inexpensive as it is, and d) has surprisingly more space than I thought it was going to. (Sans kitchen. The kitchen is miserably small and horribly laid out. For someone who cooks a lot, I can promise you that THIS will be my major axe to grind this year.)

In a city of unpredictability, I’m in a decent neighborhood, in a nice building with only 15 other apartments. Having already met four of my new neighbors, they seem friendly and quiet (actually, wait for Golden Girls type stories to follow. I’m easily 40 years the junior to the four single women in the building that I’ve met so far.)

And now it’s time to close up shop here. I have one last week at work. I will be in and out. I have no compulsion at this point to work very hard there (see the “we haven’t quite worked out all the money business” sentence from above.) I have said goodbye to each of my kids individually. On Friday, we are having a gathering to celebrate their hard work (and mine) and we will see the beginning of a couple things I worked hard in my time to get off the ground. A nice natural ending. My work there is done.

One of my dear friends, the man who helped me move all of my stuff from DC here when I moved here 5 ½ years ago is coming back on Friday to help me move out. “It just seemed like, well, I wanted to finish what we started. I moved you in, and now I want to move you out.” I feel the same way. And thank you.

Last weekend, my two best friends from grad school came back to spend one last weekend with me. And while they were here, we did all the things we used to do when we all lived here together—laughed too much, ate and drank too much, watched countless hours of football, and just generally ended my time here just like we began it. Together, doing the things we love. My friend C said “It just seems right that we’re back here together on the weekend before the last of us leaves here for good.” And it did.

One of the words I hate most in the world is “deserve.” It has always just left a bad taste in my mouth. Very rarely is there an occasion when I think someone deserves something, because it seems to link a cause and effect to things I’m not sure exist. (Example: People say, “If you work hard, you deserve a raise.” I disagree. If you work hard, it means you’re doing what you were hired to do.) I don’t know, I guess I just feel like most of the time when people use the word, it’s generally dripping with entitlement, which right after not taking responsibility for one’s actions, is my second least favorite characteristic in a person.

But I do believe in things sorta evening themselves out in the end. Maybe, after the year of drama and heartache and struggle for me, this move being generally easy was the way to balance things out. I don’t deserve it, but it sure has been a nice way for things to level out in the end (in my mind’s eye, my time here has been like a bell curve… and we’re finally two standard deviations out from the mean. Man, I cannot believe I just used a stats reference.)

Maybe it’s not just about balance and symmetry or evening out my time here or karma. Maybe there’s something larger at play. One of my favorite books of all time is Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist (by the way, if you have not yet read this book, please go read it immediately. It will change you.) The grounding philosophy of the book is this: when you are on the path to achieving your own personal legend, all the world conspires to help you along the way.

I think I like this idea best of all. Maybe this event is so easy (not the year it took to get here, but the event itself) because it is the right thing. It’s what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s my personal legend, and the first step toward a career I’m strangely confident will be right for me, in a place I know I will love, with friends I already care about. Maybe it’s because this is the first real move I’ve been able to make to start me down the path towards happily ever after with J. All I know is that for reasons passing my understanding, I am not nervous. I am not scared. I am not anxious. I know with every fiber of my being, that going back to DC is the right thing to do.

And it makes sense for one who so loves pattern and structure and symmetry. Before I came here, it was DC. What better way to bookend my time here than by going back?