“Life in transition.” I typed that title a minute ago, and then I started to think about how I deal with transitions in general…how I feel about them. What did I even mean by that title? Yeah, you can see where this blog post is going. I’m meandering today. (Fun word, “meandering.” It’s defined as, “a circuitous journey or excursion; ramble.” Yep. That’s applicable.) I’m pretty sure I do a lot of meandering. Is that a good thing, or a bad thing? I’m just not sure. I do sometimes think that I lack focus, and wonder what I should do about it. Would I have achieved more if I had had a singular vision of where my life should go? Maybe. Probably. But I also think that my lack of focus has been a plus in my life. I’m flexible. I adjust well. I get along. I ramble. Nothing like a good ramble on a sunny day! Right?
So what’s going on in my life that’s got me singing “Like a Rolling Stone?” Well, the sequestration has hit home. My husband was working as a defense contractor and he was recently let go. And it’s not exactly a growth industry right now, soooo…..life here is in transition. On the plus side, we have a plan. (Plans are good, right?) When he first retired from the Army in 2007 our intent had been to start a business buying, renovating, and reselling homes. Over the course of our marriage (30 years this August,) we have both always enjoyed fixing up our houses, and we’ve had lots of practice because of all the military moves. It’s rewarding to take a place and make it better. And we were both feeling the pull of the entrepreneurial spirit. So our business venture seemed like a good fit for us. But, as you all know, the mortgage crisis happened, home values plummeted, sales declined, and we had to do some rethinking. Was it the right time to start a business, any business, let alone one in the housing industry? We decided perhaps not. So he took a contracting job, and we filed that little dream away for another day.
And guess what? Tomorrow is today! What??? Oh, you get it. It’s all about those phrases your mom used to tell you when things didn’t go quite your way, doors close, windows open, that kind of stuff. Anyway, that’s how we’re trying to see it and we are embracing the changes headed our way. Home Renaissance Group, LLC is launching. We’re both in the process of studying for our Realtor’s licenses, (and I think I have a WAY better chance of passing it on the first run than I did with the ACE exam, which has probably been put on a back burner for now. I haven’t decided. I might just go and wing it, but that might not be the best idea I’ve ever had – we’ll see,) and we’re looking for our first project. Lots of research will be involved, which I’m good at, and lots of horrible, yucky, icky financial stuff, which I’m not, but fortunately my husband is, and we’re both pretty hard workers. With a little luck tossed in the mix we’re hoping all will be well.
But even with an optimistic attitude, a good partner, and lots of resources, transitions can be scary. Am I right? It’s not just me, is it? On the outside I’m fairly cool and collected, but inside? I’m pretty sure it looks like this…
Not that that is necessarily a bad thing. Turbulence wakes you up. Makes you alert. And feeling scared is kind of cool. It means you’re trying new stuff, you’re not too settled, you’re “out there,” and you never know what can happen when you put yourself “out there.” That’s what makes it exciting. Awesomeness might await. I’m grateful that I really do believe that, in my heart of hearts. But I am a cautious risk-taker, a wanna-be bad ass, a walking, talking oxymoron. This causes me to vacillate between this…
- Me and Texie being bad-asses
- Me and Texie being scared
(Wow. Guess who hasn’t had any botox.) On the plus side, when I get anxious, I organize things. My closets are a joy to behold right now. When I run out of them I will be offering up my services to friends.
Oh, and I’ve got other big transitions happening as well, not just a new business on the horizon. My baby is graduating on Saturday. What the what??? How can that be? When she was five I made her promise that she would stay in kindergarten and live with me for the rest of her life and she has betrayed me!!! I turned my back on her for one second and she went ahead and grew up!
I’m incredibly proud of all three of my kids…my big giant grown up no longer will be around the house oh it’s going to be so quiet and wierd and different and what will I do with myself, kids. Yeah, so to get back to the question at the top of the post, about how do I deal with transitions? I guess I’m a bit conflicted. “Ch-ch- ch- changes.” People probably thought that that lyric was just David Bowie making a creative choice, but really he was stuttering out of anxiety.
Where am I as far as fitness goals go? Well… I’m hanging in there. My weight is about 5 pounds from goal. Unfortunately I am not one of those people who, when stressed, says things like, “Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat anything real. I’ll just nibble on these arugula leaves…just the small ones.” (How those kinds of people don’t get bitch slapped by the rest of us who are more inclined to say something along the lines of, “Yes, please, I’d like the combo order, AND the milkshake. Yes, of course I want the whip cream! Extra whip cream! I want whip cream ON my whip cream,)I’ll never know. Anyway, I honestly don’t even know if anyone, including me will be able to notice those 5 pounds, but I want my scale to say my goal weight for at least a day or so while I have a chance to evaluate. It probably comes back to my need to organize, to tidy things up. I set a goal and I want to reach it, dammit. Done. File it away in my beautifully clean closet (there are mental closets as well, located somewhere in a far off, well organized section of my brain.) Workout wise this week, I’m back in rehab – slow going. My ankle, until recently, had been behaving well, but my need to clean did me in last week. I scoured the grout on all of my bathroom walls and floors. The floors did me in. Apparently my ankle no longer wants to be held in a kneeling position for hours on end. So my ankle is crap, but my grout is fantastic, thanks for asking!
My diet is in transition again too. Well, it’s not, but it might be soon. Again, I am conflicted. I was a vegetarian for 4 years and added fish and chicken back in last year. (I still don’t eat mammals.) I did so because I had become a lame-o about cooking healthy vegetarian meals. The first two years on a vegetarian diet I had tried hard to eat a healthy, balanced diet and during that time I felt fine. The last two years? Not so good. I’d become a a cheese-a-tarian. I’d gained weight, I’d lost muscle and I felt lethargic. Not loving cooking I went the easy route and instead of once again trying harder with the vegetarian cooking, I simply added poultry and fish back in. So easy. Grill a piece of chicken, bake a potato, steam some broccoli. Viola! And since adding the poultry and fish back in I have lost weight and physically feel better, but I am wracked with guilt about eating animals, mostly because of the inhumane treatment they receive at industrial farms and in processing plants. I have been buying the very expensive, certified humane poultry, milk and eggs as a mea culpa to the animal planet, and that makes me feel some better, but it is SO much more expensive and we’re trying to scale back our budget. Ugh. So conflicted. Not sure where this is going…
Oh, and I broke bad on the Diet Coke thing. 5 months sober, gone with the pop of a top.
Gosh. This really has been a meandering post. Oh, but that’s okay. Sometimes when we meander we see new sights, think new thoughts, double back and learn to appreciate things we hadn’t noticed before, move forward to find new unexplored territory, make new discoveries.
Yeah, I’m good with meandering. That’s life, as best I can tell.
P.S. – My husband named the company Home Renaissance Group as a tribute to my grandfather, Howard Roy Grayson, who, without much education or money, but with an apprenticeship behind him and the belief that great things were ahead of him, launched H.R. Grayson, (which later became H.R. Grayson, and Son, my dad being the “and Son,”) in 1929.
We hope to do them both proud.