A storm's a brewin'.
The end is near.
Frantically I am searching online job posts, volunteer websites, various low-cost travel opportunities and harassing local good-works agencies, but for what?! To continue the overwhelming drone of life?
Of course!
Usually the buzz and hum of my busy days are not felt negatively, only lately with the pressure to find employment or commitment of some sort do I get tired of seeking my next adventure. To all I want to say: Give to me whatever life sends my way! I am curious what endeavor will tickle my toes next at the upcoming juncture, the end of my AmeriCorps NCCC experience and transition back to normal life.
Normal: Having just looked up the technical definition of this word, I am caught off guard by it's reference to sanity. Normal essentially means 3 things (according to Merriam-Webster): ordinary, sane & typical.
By all means, my AmeriCorps lifestyle has been anything but normal. Typical lifestyles are reserved for those people with 9-5 jobs, steady housing, and occasional travel for pleasure-- definitely not me. An ordinary life is that of the majority, again with the above-listed characteristics-- and the AmeriCorps NCCC people are for from being a majority in this American nation. Sane though, Sane? This lifestyle I have lived for the past 10 months is completely insane when compared to typical & ordinary. You see, communal living itself is abnormal, but when tied up to exhausting work weeks, 10 months spent with the same people, and staying in one place for no longer than 5 weeks, abnormal can't describe the chaos. Insane does.
The complete exhaustion of working nearly 400 hours in one month slapped me silly. The reality of going.... how many months again?... without spending 24 hours alone is turning me into a communal zombie that fears and craves a respite from social situations. The uncomfortable situations like sexual harassment from 50 year old men (a lingered-too-long hello/greeting hug and an awkward moment when told that although he can't stretch very good, his genitals work just fine), the blatant sexism, and general distrust because I am a woman has pushed my limits. Feeling overwhelmed and empty, fully unable to understand my true feelings, has become commonplace. I think insanity is right.
All I want to do right now is sit back with my feet reclined and clear my head. But I can't clear my head because it's not over yet (still so much to do!) and I can't recline because of my bruised bottom.
This morning I woke relatively early for a weekend, around 7:30 AM, to enjoy a peaceful morning with a cup of tea and a good book. Bubbly and full of life, I climbed out of my top bunk and gathered all my essentials for the upcoming hours: journal, pen, chapstick (the wind-whipping my face took on the last day of work in Connecticut caused some seriously parched lips), book, and even cell-phone because I was trying to track down some important information. Joyfully I bounded down the stairs like usual. Imagine a hop/skip/jump at a quick pace, and now imagine that on stairs slick with old, worn paint and a groggy young woman in socks. KaPOW! 3 steps from the bottom my feet flew out from beneath me and belongings went flying. I tried to brace myself for the fall and ended up causing a good bend in my hard-bound journal, cracking my pen, and causing more damage to my already beat-up phone, in addition to the beating my body took. I'm developing a good bruise on my forearm and have a nice imprint the stair edge on my ass. A straight line right across my butt-crack, from cheek to cheek, something between a scrape and a bruise.
It didn't phase me too much, and I still had a good day. In fact, it might have been even better because I became fully determined to acheive my goal of serenity. I drank more tea than usual and was engulfed in stories of women's travel alone. I finished the book, did plenty of job research, had a few inspiring conversations about creating (farming, sewing, even making one's own shoes), and submitted an application to a wilderness therapy program. I feel underqualified for the position but it's worth a shot.
The end is near. And I'm looking it sqaure in the eye.
Frantically I am searching online job posts, volunteer websites, various low-cost travel opportunities and harassing local good-works agencies, but for what?! To continue the overwhelming drone of life?
Of course!
Usually the buzz and hum of my busy days are not felt negatively, only lately with the pressure to find employment or commitment of some sort do I get tired of seeking my next adventure. To all I want to say: Give to me whatever life sends my way! I am curious what endeavor will tickle my toes next at the upcoming juncture, the end of my AmeriCorps NCCC experience and transition back to normal life.
Normal: Having just looked up the technical definition of this word, I am caught off guard by it's reference to sanity. Normal essentially means 3 things (according to Merriam-Webster): ordinary, sane & typical.
By all means, my AmeriCorps lifestyle has been anything but normal. Typical lifestyles are reserved for those people with 9-5 jobs, steady housing, and occasional travel for pleasure-- definitely not me. An ordinary life is that of the majority, again with the above-listed characteristics-- and the AmeriCorps NCCC people are for from being a majority in this American nation. Sane though, Sane? This lifestyle I have lived for the past 10 months is completely insane when compared to typical & ordinary. You see, communal living itself is abnormal, but when tied up to exhausting work weeks, 10 months spent with the same people, and staying in one place for no longer than 5 weeks, abnormal can't describe the chaos. Insane does.
The complete exhaustion of working nearly 400 hours in one month slapped me silly. The reality of going.... how many months again?... without spending 24 hours alone is turning me into a communal zombie that fears and craves a respite from social situations. The uncomfortable situations like sexual harassment from 50 year old men (a lingered-too-long hello/greeting hug and an awkward moment when told that although he can't stretch very good, his genitals work just fine), the blatant sexism, and general distrust because I am a woman has pushed my limits. Feeling overwhelmed and empty, fully unable to understand my true feelings, has become commonplace. I think insanity is right.
All I want to do right now is sit back with my feet reclined and clear my head. But I can't clear my head because it's not over yet (still so much to do!) and I can't recline because of my bruised bottom.
This morning I woke relatively early for a weekend, around 7:30 AM, to enjoy a peaceful morning with a cup of tea and a good book. Bubbly and full of life, I climbed out of my top bunk and gathered all my essentials for the upcoming hours: journal, pen, chapstick (the wind-whipping my face took on the last day of work in Connecticut caused some seriously parched lips), book, and even cell-phone because I was trying to track down some important information. Joyfully I bounded down the stairs like usual. Imagine a hop/skip/jump at a quick pace, and now imagine that on stairs slick with old, worn paint and a groggy young woman in socks. KaPOW! 3 steps from the bottom my feet flew out from beneath me and belongings went flying. I tried to brace myself for the fall and ended up causing a good bend in my hard-bound journal, cracking my pen, and causing more damage to my already beat-up phone, in addition to the beating my body took. I'm developing a good bruise on my forearm and have a nice imprint the stair edge on my ass. A straight line right across my butt-crack, from cheek to cheek, something between a scrape and a bruise.
It didn't phase me too much, and I still had a good day. In fact, it might have been even better because I became fully determined to acheive my goal of serenity. I drank more tea than usual and was engulfed in stories of women's travel alone. I finished the book, did plenty of job research, had a few inspiring conversations about creating (farming, sewing, even making one's own shoes), and submitted an application to a wilderness therapy program. I feel underqualified for the position but it's worth a shot.
The end is near. And I'm looking it sqaure in the eye.
This story is hilarious. You are great. I can't wait to hear more about everything and see you soon! Love ya :)
ReplyDeleteI am looking foreward to a yummy meal with you!
ReplyDeleteI fell down the stairs a couple weeks ago. It made me feel like an idiot. I was sort of fighting with my husband and just got dne saying something slightly rude and stormed down the stairs. Luckily it was no where near as bad as you did, but I sure felt dumb. I had to get up and hide so Dave would not see me sprawled out on the stairs. We were soon both laughing.
I am so sorry that happened to you.