Tonight you are going to make sweet potato soup with cilantro and peanuts in Germany. I am about to go to bed, here in California, at 930 in the morning because I worked my second graveyard shift last night. So far I don't feel like I'm dying by the time I leave, so I'll keep doing what I've been doing and hope it keeps me sane till I get off this shift. I wish I were in Hamburg with you and your giant mustache.
I never explained why I'm writing, did I? Let me 'splain.
You know full well that I am not depressed and that I never really get to that point of badness no matter what craziness occurs in my life. You also know about the recent catastrophes that have fallen on my head (and dealt with one of them alongside me - thanks for that). This bloggity thing is not about how bad my life is, because it's really not. Sure, there's some unpleasantness right now and there always will be some here and there. My evil plan at this time is to simply try to figure out how to get away from moderately unhappy and to the heart of something better...maybe even satisfied, contented, enduring happiness.
I can tell you what I've been told will bring me happiness (though I believe not a word of it):
Getting a man.
Losing weight.
Having a "successful career" (which does not imply that one need enjoy it)
Going to therapy.
I'm trying to recall the last time that getting involved with a guy for all the wrong reasons led to anything remotely similar to happy for me or anyone else. I'm also putting together a list of unhappy couples in my head as an example of how I do NOT want to live. Among our friends, we have some great examples of healthy, happy relationships. They are the reason that I am not currently involved. If I can't be happy with myself and that means not being happy with anyone else, why should I settle for being miserable with someone? The only positive thing it would get me is a lack of nagging relatives who are concerned that I'm 34 and unmarried. Feh.
I do want to lose weight, although sometimes the proof is against me, but I have no illusions about it. It's not going to turn my life around. Wearing a size 8 isn't going to make me a happy person. And shriveling to size 8 from my current buxomness would be scarily unhealthy. I will work towards it, but it cannot be my main goal and I know it will not solve all my problems. And don't even get me started on all the skinny chicks I know who manage to have way less self-confidence than I do.
I have an incredibly stable and portable job. I may not love where I currently work, but I'm very pleased to be both employed (especially in the current economy) and building a strong foundation for getting a job elsewhere that is even better. I do not need to be rich or famous or powerful to be happy. I know plenty of people who can claim at least one of those things who are downright miserable. Besides, I am technically successful. I have a good, stable job that pays pretty damn well and a great retirement plan with benefits that may not be fabulous, but outscores any I've ever had before.
People go to therapy to find out what's wrong with them. Whatev. I already know my flaws. I had that psych evaluation for my background check only a few years ago and I still think that shrink was pretty fantastic for figuring me out based on a bunch of computer tests. He told me everything that was wrong with me and that I was completely capable of doing the job I was applying for, but that I'd hate it. I agreed with him then, but I still had to try. He was right about everything. Besides, the last thing I need is to go sit in a stranger's office and use up all his tissues. Especially when I can just wait a couple of months and abuse you in the same way (only...you never make me cry).
Look, I'll be the first to admit that I am not currently where I wish I was in my life. I'm not crazy about where I work or where I live or even what I do in my spare time. But there are things you can change pretty easily, things that take a while and things that you have to put on hold because to rush them would make them a hell of a lot worse.
I can't just pick up and move away from here. I promised myself that I wouldn't do that again. I promised myself that I would save money and this time have professional movers. I'm not backing out on that, no way, no how. Okay, so maybe in the end I'll decide to use the money in a better way (or?), but I still will not move without significant savings. I need to have a bubble of financial safety this time. Otherwise I'm just banging my head into a wall. And I am not comprising long-term happiness just to have a short-term giggle.
Until I'm ready to move, I have no desire to start over at another job. I may work at the funny farm (and I don't mean that I help the mentally unstable for a living), but I'm in good standing, I get special assignments and I'm not at the bottom of the seniority list. I'd be a complete fool to leave right now. I also truly believe that when I do get to give them my notice, it will be unbelievably satisfying.
So here is what I can change:
I can take better care of myself.
I can go to all those doctor's appointments I've been avoiding and get all those nasty tests done, then not have to do them again for a long time.
I can spend more time getting outside, exercising in ways I actually enjoy and then enjoying my relaxation way more.
I can cook more often and more adventurously.
I can write more letters to my friends.
I can listen better to my friends and show I care more by taking more time with their needs.
Ah man, that's just the beginning of the list. The big question is: Can I be that self-aware? Will I remember all the little things that add up to a whole lotta good? Well, I admit it - I'm going to need some help. And I'm okay with that, but I'd rather it be the occasional nudge from a friend. Besides, therapists are expensive, Jenn.
Jae
Good start on living happy.
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