Just Busy-ish

Here's the short version of the past month during which I apparently decided I no longer loved my blog enough to write. Which is stupid, because I've missed it:

The spa owners spent three weeks rafting the grand canyon, leaving me nominally "in charge", which meant at one point I worked 11 days straight. For me, that was brutal.

I then started applying for real jobs. Yes. Really. I sent out letters of interest and resumes and everything. There is a causal connection between this activity and being left "in charge" of the spa. While they were gone, something just clicked and I realized that "No. I will not be happy working a mindless customer service job for the rest of my life. I have very little ambition, but what I have is not going to be satisfied by this for much longer." I only applied for two real jobs, but was quickly rejected (one post had already been filled, the other I just never heard back from). So then I was a bit depressed/discouraged. I'm hoping to apply for a few more jobs this week. I'm serious about it now, so if anyone has any leads for jobs in Idaho, let me know. My pay requirements are minimal. (I actually found the perfect job (the one that was already filled, damn it) and determined that I could actually live, just barely, on the low low sum of $35,000/year. So now I at least have a floor of what I need to survive. Good to know I guess.)

And then, last week, I had a bit of a home invasion. On Monday my mom, stepdad, and their two large dogs showed up. On Wednesday, a dear old friend of the family (Howdy) arrived to remove about 500 pounds of horseshoes and a couple of forges that he'd been storing in the chicken coop for about twenty years. Also on Wednesday, fabulously skilled Uncle George arrived to finish a few more projects. These four people have done a HUGE amount of work. Totally makes me embarrassed for all the work I have not been doing. Stepdad and Howdy split and stacked two cords of wood between them. Stepdad bushwacked all the weeds I'd let take over the property and cut down two dead trees. Mom cleaned and planted the flower beds, killed about a million yellow jacket and wasp nests, put insulation in the scary space beneath my dining room floor, and buttressed the woodshed so it will survive another winter. George built a funny little deck off my dining room so he could take out these horrible old windows and install new french doors! (They're doors to nowhere for now since there's a five foot drop from them to the ground, but eventually, someday, there will be a real deck.) Oh, and the neighbors totally regraded my driveway. Yeah. It's been quite a week.

Howdy left on Friday, Mom, Stepdad and the dogs headed out this morning, so now it's just me, George, and the cats. The house seems really empty. As much as I'd kind of been dreading having such a full house, (have I mentioned lately what a hermit I am?) I miss them already.

Grumpy

I am in a foul mood today. Practically poisonous. The day started really crummy, when at 1 am I was woken by little claws scratching my arm as a tortured mouse ran across my body trying to escape from Freckles. I found the poor creature, critically injured, trapped between my mattress and the wall. There was nothing I could do. I wrapped it in a paper towel, struggling the whole time. When I tried to open the door it escaped, flopped out of my hands, performed these horrifying death spirals on the floor until I was able to get it outside, on the porch, where I left it to its fate. Then I cried. And tried to go back to sleep. Every time one of the cats jumped up to the bed I freaked out, turned on the light, and made sure she was alone this time. It was not a restful night, but the mouse had it much much worse. Oh god, I'm tearing up again just thinking about it. Now I know, worse than finding a dead mouse on your bed, is finding a dying one.

The day has gotten significantly less tragic, but not necessarily better. I'm bitter about being stuck at the spa when other people are relaxing (which, given my schedule as described in my last post, I know is completely ridiculous.) I'm annoyed and angry with one of the therapists, a friend, who was horribly unprofessional today and stuck me in an awkward position as a result. I just wrote a sentence saying that I was probably being unfair, and excusing her, but I deleted it. Because I'm not being unfair, and today, being tired, and grumpy, and sad I'm not in the mood to be accommodating. And did I mention that it's cloudy?

Oh Loathesome March

Monday I decided it was time to get out of the mountains again. I mean, it had been a WHOLE WEEK since I'd gone anywhere . . . antsyness, thy name is Corina. So I drove down to the Valley and did all those little things I can't do here. Like go to Anthropologie, browse used book and antique stores, see a movie in the middle of the day, find cross stitch fabric, eat Vietnamese food, and walk on snow/ice/slush-free sidewalks. The weather in Boise wasn't the spring-time idyll I was hoping for, but for March it wasn't bad. And when I got home yesterday it was RAINING. The temperature hovered in the mid 30's, and it was raining and the air was damp and cold and the wind was creaking in the eves. This is a horrid time of year. I tried going for a walk last week, and between the squelchy mud and slick ice and bitter wind, I lasted 20 minutes and then returned home with dirty hems and a headache.

And . . . I'm sounding awfully negative. I've just always hated the long tease that is the end of winter. And I have to go into the resort spa this aftenoon for more training. And work makes me cranky, because I don't wanna! I want to sit by the fire and find the perfect font for the fist cross stitch project I've done since I was 8 instead of showing people to the steam room and asking if I can get them another glass of water and "your therapist will be with you in just a minute" and "would you like to put a gratuity on the card?" But this afternoon will pay for the new jeans I bought at Anthropologie (they were on sale). And that's good.

Another Mini Breakdown

Last night, as I was driving home after my second straight 9.5 hour day, I slammed on my brakes to narrowly avoid running down a beautiful red fox who'd decided to dart in front of my car and I was barely able to hold back the tears. It's not like there's anything horrible happening, and the good news is I did NOT kill a fox last night, but I'm tired and a little overwhelmed. And more than the feelings of exhaustion and stress, what really made feel that panicky flutter in the depths of my chest was this fear: If two long(ish) days of work, an upcoming bar exam, one sick cat, two cats who hate each other, and the prospect of a job interview are enough to make me feel like throwing both cats into a snow bank and crawling under the comforter for a few (many) days, how the HELL am I going to go back to working 50+ hour weeks? Can I really do that and not lose my mind? In stronger moments, I think of course I can. People do it all the time. Most of my friends do it and sure, they complain, but they're still mentally intact. They enjoy their lives if not their jobs. But last night I wasn't so sure I could. Or more accurately, if I can do it without chemical support. Not that there's anything wrong with that of course. It's been so nice to be happy without them, but I'm not clever enough to come up with an alternative that doesn't involve defaulting on my student loans.

Stupid Snow

The Valley County schools are closed. They don't close schools here for a little snow, they're only closed if the roads are REALLY bad. I guess 6 inches of snow overnight and 40 mph wind gusts qualifies. And I have to go to work today. Stupid work. I like work, really I do, but I like it a lot more when the roads aren't death traps. I'm actually considering bringing a change of clothes with me today so that I can get a hotel room and not drive home tonight if the roads make me too nervous (the forecast calls for another 5-8 inches today, and 2-4 inches tonight.) That's insane right? I mean, a hotel room costs more than I make in two days of work. But . . . I have to make it in (the owners are out of town) and . . . tonight Lost comes back, and if I had a hotel room I could watch it . . . Hmmm. That is sounding like a better and better idea. Assuming, of course, I make it into McCall at all this morning and don't get stuck in a snow drift. Fingers crossed for me y'all.

Can you see my driveway? Yeah, me neither.

Yesterday, with 6 inches of snow in the driveway, and the flakes falling steadily, I called my boss to let her know that I might not be able to make it in to work today. And then, last night, I heard my neighbor plowing the drive and thought "FOILED!" But that was premature. Becaue I woke up this morning to another 6 inches of fresh snow. And even after someone plows again, I'll have to spend an hour or so digging out the few feet between my car and the area the plow can reach . . . so I'm snowed in. All official like. Yippee!! I really wish I had a sled, or some cross country skis, or snow shoes. I want to bundle up, and go outside and play. I might have to build a snowman or something.

Another Reason To Stay in Idaho, or One Less Reason to Leave

I just found out that an Anthropologie store will be opening in downtown Boise sometime soon! I'm doomed. I wonder if there's any way I could survive splitting my time between working at Anthropologie and a spa? I'd be dirt poor, but I'd have adorable clothes and home accessories and my skin would be fabulous.

The facial was excellent by the way. I adore the woman who gave it to me, and she's phenomenal at her job. I came out feeling slightly drunk with relaxation, the way I've seen people look after they get a hot stone massage or one of the spa's detox wraps. And my skin looks great. I think this might have to become a regular indulgence.

Indulgence

Because we're in the slow season, the spa is letting members of its unlimited yoga club and, more importantly to me, its staff, get services at 50% off the regular rate. Of course, I always get 40% off, but that extra 10% . . . I'm getting an inexpensive high-quality facial this morning. And I have the next 5 days off. I love my life.

Sociability

The main reason I got a job wasn't to ease financial pressure, or to finance trips to Alabama that I no longer need to take, it was to give myself a chance, meagre though it might be, at a social life that wasn't entirely dependent on some form of long distance communication. It's hard to make friends, or even acquaintances, as adults. It's even harder when you don't take a class, volunteer, have a job, or have any other reason to see the same people on a regular enough basis to learn their names.

I haven't really had a chance to feel isolated here. I had all that family staying with me, I had trips to look forward to, I had this bizarre long distance relationship taking up a (definitely too large) place in my emotional life. But I could see the very real possibility of lonliness setting in with the snow and the cold of a mountain winter. So I got a job.

Last night I went out for a drink with two girls from work. They're both 26, funny, and interesting. In the bar, between them, they knew 80% of the people there. And it was pretty crowded. In spite of feeling very very aged (don't even get me started on the lectures on how to stalk MySpace cuties I got from one of them while killing time at work), I had a good time. We talked about Christmas trees, and going out for sushi next Friday (yes, you can get sushi in the inter-mountain west . . . and yes, I agree that this is not necessarily a good plan but . . .) And I felt, like maybe, if I really try, and I master my anti-social tendencies, I could cobble together some sort of social life here. Right around the time that I run out of money and have to move.

Expensive

Working at a spa when it's slow is kind of expensive. There were only three appointments all damn day, and once I'd done all my little routine tasks, and done as many non-routine tasks as I could think of . . . I mostly just chatted with the therapists and . . . bought stuff and scheduled treatments for myself. Even with my discount, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to break even when this is all said and done. Oh well. At least I'll have well-cut and shiny deep-conditioned hair and plenty of fancy face creams.

First Day

I made it home late last night to a cold house and some seriously lonely cats. A fire took the edge off the first, and a night of interrupted sleep (mine) and snuggling (Sugar's) and random pets (Freckles and the last remaining kittens) took care of the second. And now, I'm getting ready for my first day of work. This is so weird.

I'm employed?

Really? Are you sure? I . . . got a job? For reals? Apparently.

Starting next Friday, I'll be working three days a week as a receptionist at a spa. And, awesomely, I do get a discount on spa services. I also get free yoga classes. So . . . I'm going to have to be someplace three days a week. Working. This will be interesting.

Um

I just applied for a part-time job as a receptionist at a spa. What do you bet they don't even consider me because my resume is so screwy? A little retail work here . . . three years as a lawyer there . . . a big long stint of doing absolutely nothing productive . . . the woman I spoke to on the phone did like my phone voice though, which if nothing else was nice to hear.

But the weird thing is, part of me really wants this job! I think it would make the winter less lonely, especially as I study for the bar, which is a horribly solitary thing. I could meet some people, have the constant human interaction that I didn't get as a lawyer, get out of my pyjamas and wear some of my cute business casual fall/winter wardrobe, have a little extra spending money . . . and I didn't ask, but I wonder if I'd get a discount on spa services? The occasional facial could be nothing but good.

ETA: Well, I got an interview. The guy who called asked if I could come in today, and all I could think was . . . . but . . . I haven't washed my hair in three days and I have no idea which boxes my work appropriate attire is in . . . so . . . how about tomorrow? Wish me luck!

Vacation

It's been a pretty gray day. This is as sunny as it's been. Not that I'm complaining. It's beautiful. I woke up this morning after a long night in bed, making up a little sleep deficit I'd built up on my lovely trips to Portland and Alabama and the annoying early morning flights and drives that they'd entailed. I dressed, headed down to the dining room and had myself some fresh creole bread and a cup of tea. I'm not a paying guest at my parents' bed & breakfast, but I do get some of the perks. Maid service, someone to wash the dishes and clear away the crumbs . . .

After breakfast I read for awhile. Then I changed into my bathing suit and swam a few lazy, slow laps under the gray skies. Some online chatting out on the balcony (I brought my laptop and the place has wireless . . . god I love it here) rounded out my morning. The afternoon: more reading, a nap, and a quick perusal of the job boards at the resort across the valley from my Idaho home. I'm broke. I hate it. I think I need to do something part-time, answer phones, make coffee, book appointments, greet guests . . . something to pay for more plane tickets to Alabama. To make it possible to stay in Idaho, my beautiful ridiculous cabin, for as long as I'd hoped. To postpone the need for a full-time job, a real job, a real life. I like this fake life a lot. I'm not ready to give it up.

Right now, I'm sitting on the balcony again, this is my view, listening to the rustle of the palms and banana trees, listening to the grave digger (really a crypt builder, but grave digger sounds better) in the cemetary next door singing "Goodnight Irene". Who would want reality when their fantasies look like this, even in gray?

Picnic

I've had a couple of small panic attacks in the past 24 hours. I woke up at 3:30 this morning and couldn't get back to sleep what with all the racing my mind was doing, worries about money, whether I'm making myself unemployable by being out of the job market so long, etc. rumbling and tumbling in my head. And then today I made the horrible mistake of looking at my law school's online job postings. Oh my was that a really really bad idea. I saw a posting for the job that had sort of been my ideal escape plan back when I was working - pre year-off brainstorm. And what with the new car, and the sudden hit that my savings account has taken, and just general anxiety that is setting in as I get close to the 6 month mark, it sent me spinning. Maybe I should apply? Maybe that would be the right and responsible thing to do? The two people I was IMing with when I saw the posting sure thought so.

But it doesn't feel right. Stop, I'm not going to start thinking about all the pros and cons again because I'll undo all the good that was done by the intended subject of this post. With me completely freaking out at him by IM, my dear friend Zach suggested I come over to his house and he'd feed me tuna salad and we could go for a walk on the beach. When I showed up it was to see this lovely picnic lunch, complete with tablecloth and linen napkins set up in his beautiful overgrown yard full of wildflowers. It was so perfect. We talked about the snobs you have to deal with working in retail, insurance, ugly babies, and other inocuous subjects and when the shadows covered the table we retired to the beach where a little light exercise on a clear day in beautiful surroundings cleared the remnants of clutter from my head and left me calm and still. This kind of afternoon is why I'm not ready to go back to work, and, perhaps as importantly, this kind of beauty is why I'm not ready to move back to the big city. Any big city.