The first thing I did after getting home was call the flower shop to tell them I quit. Please don't think poorly of me. You see, I've never done anything like that before and even though making that phone call made my stomach twist itself into a thousand knots, nothing has ever felt so good in my entire life. The thing is that, when I moved here, I never wanted to be a florist ever again. We moved so that we could make room for change in our lives. I only took the job out of necessity and desperation...and then tried my best to maintain a positive attitude about the whole thing. The truth is that after 2 measely days, I hated it. I hated the uppity-out-do-your-neighbor attitude of Edina. I hated all the value placed on money and materialism and the way everyone that worked who there kissed so much ass instead of just being genuinly friendly...instead of, for that matter, being simply genuine. Money can be nice, but when it tips the scale and turns into "status symbol," then I just don't get it. I went home with such a sick feeling that only sunk deeper with each passing day. Ever since getting the job I have felt depression settling in like heavy little weights tied to each of my fingers, pulling me down, down, down. But I tried to ignore that feeling because there are bills to pay and sometimes you just need to suck it up and do what needs to be done.
When it comes down to it, it's just not where I wanted to be. I wanted to move on. I've wanted that from the beginning...
And now--oh my god I am so thankful--I can. There is a part of me that is reveling in the much deserved change in our lives and a part of me that is still processing the guilt I feel for quitting a job after only two days...but, when it comes down to it, I am absolutely, supremely happy.
I will have time to write. To write!!
Last night I dreamt of a huge park. There were trees along the sides of it and beyond that there were roads and houses and parked cars. But in front of me there was nothing but green, green grass and blue sky and vast open space. Oh my god, it felt so good! I stood there thinking about how incredibly liberating it would feel to run through all that grass with my arms wide open. There was so much room--to breathe and think and run! And so I did...I ran until I found myself hovering in the sky just enjoying the whole spectacular scene...and the whole while, even though I knew I was dreaming, I was completely aware that it was all just a metaphor for my life.
There has been so much stress, not just lately, but for the past SEVERAL years...and finally, finally we can rest. Both of us. God, I am so grateful I could break down into a puddle of tears.
So today V. and I began our new life. We got up early. V. left to teach class and (since I didn't have to work at the flower shop!) I took Anu for a long walk though falling leaves. When V. got home it was still early so we did something that we never get to do and went out for breakfast. We sat there in the old diner basking in the yellow glow of those perfectly poached eggs and smiled at each other. V.'s the one who said it first...when I asked him what he was thinking about, he said: "I'm thinking that this is the first day of our new life." And so we toasted to our new life with glasses of water. Then he asked me what I had been thinking about and I told him that, in my head, I was blogging about that very moment. I was wondering what it meant to be "a writer." I was thinking about how those two words looked inside of quotation marks:
I was thinking about how I was going to tackle my thesis and which coffee shops I might spend the most time in while writing it. I was thinking about all those dreams and passions that I've been carrying around my whole life and that I had come oh-so-close to setting aside, but now I remember them. Now I remember how much more important they are than anything else.
I'll still be working at the bookstore, nearly full time if I want to. But that's the easy part. I love it there. I am proud of V. and glad that he will be doing something he loves. I feel strange saying that we deserve this, but our lives have been damn hard for too long.
And I don't remember the last time that I felt this way...such calm. My life had turned into a constant whirling action; as though there were bits and pieces of myself stuck in a whirling wind somewhere just above my head and out of reach. I could never get all of the elements of my life to settle, making it so there was always something just far enough out of place to throw the rest of me out of balance.
I feel like I can breathe again. And it feels good. Better than good, actually.