On Being My Own Worst Enemy

Okay, so I've been in a funk; I believe I've established this point repeatedly, and for that drivel I apologize.

But for the past two and a half months, I've been unemployed, save for a couple of temp jobs--working the information desk at the Dreamforce Expo, where George Lucas was the guest speaker and INXS performed to a riotous crowd of global techies and online marketers, and working the registration desk at the American Dental Association conference where, out of 45,000 dentists, hygienists, trophy wives and the hygienists who are the trophy wives of their dentists, the very first person I registered was a very nice dentist from Wailuku.

(Also, my supervisor was this chick from Kihei who's been in the Bay Area for something like 20 years, and says she still misses Maui and plans to go back eventually. She has a side business selling leis, and fell easily back into the aloha-pidgin once she discovered I had recently moved from Maui.)

The point is that my self-esteem has been knocked down quite a bit from the sending out of seemingly 100's of resumes and cover letters and getting absolutely no response. I've had to borrow lots of money from family and friends just to survive and have therefore not allowed myself to enjoy any extracurricular activities. My apartment in the sunset district is a good 20 degrees colder than it actually is outside, which is another good 20 degrees colder than the rest of the city. So then I got a two-week cold, which then turned into strep throat, which led me to seek out a free clinic, where they gave me a shot in the ass and, although I felt much better the next day, the result from the antibiotics was that I had a three-week long period.

OB is just not the way I want to be for the better part of a month.

So just about into the beginning of October, I was in a dark and scary place. I felt like I had no steam left and that I should just give up. So I took off.

Getting in my little zoom and driving somewhere gave me the tiniest sense of purpose, even if just for a few hours. Driving down I-5 always makes me feel free really--and I love stopping in Bakersfield, just to scoff and giggle at the poh-dunk place of my birth. I love checking out the people in the gas stations and wonder what kind of road trip they're on, and I love scoping the random necessities and snacks of the attached mini-marts, and I love love love scanning radio stations and trying to get a feel for a place that has approximately three country music stations, along with two Mexican, a techno disco and a gospel channel.

And at the end of my short journey, of course, my parents welcomed me with open arms. They listened to my frustrated and dying ambitions, they provided support and encouragement and (like I might have already mentioned) lots of free booze and food. So I decided to stay on another week.

I even got to visit my old high school fling (HSF, for short). He used to be a somewhat crazed, mohawked ladykiller but is now the father of two and sober for about 20 years. He read me a passage from his AA bible that basically told me to stop trying to "control the show" and just have faith that things are going to work out the way they should. For some reason, this really (finally) struck a chord with me, and I decided to give that a go. Faith.

Maybe I was trying too hard. I knew that I needed to relax. It's just that I wanted wanted WANTED so badly to get my life going in the direction I've been dreaming about for so long. But I think what I've been missing is that it already is. And I should be grateful for that, and just let it happen.

Okay.