There Is Always A Price To Be Paid.. Always

So, here I find myself on the eve of the third anniversary of the Bunny's death, and as is customary I take a close look at where I am in my life - what I am doing with my time, where I am headed in the near future, where I am headed far from now - and I decide that I am no longer in transition.

In other words, I feel like I have successfully repositioned myself as a separate and single human being after being "Mrs. Russell Downie" for the last several years. It's still tastes new to me... kind of like when you go to a foreign country and somebody has you sample some new kind of food you've never seen before, and you DO, but you aren't quite sure that you like it yet. Have you ever tried boba? Boba is basically little tapioca balls in milky tea which originated in Taiwan, so you can find shops that serve it typically in Asian communities. I once worked with a Vietnamese gal who took me to have boba; they are heavier than the liquid in the glass, so they sink to the bottom; you have to dig them out and eat them with a spoon. They are sweet, but to me they have an unusual enough flavor that I can't quite throw myself completely into them, and they are kind of chewy. Like the consistency of gummy bears. So my life now is kind of sweet, with that chewy gummy bear consistency. Not sure what's that's going to mean for me down the road, but I don't have that "waiting to see what's going to happen next" feeling that's been shadowing me for the last three years.

I did something pretty significant for myself this past weekend; I finally was able to ship off Trevor's stuff that was lying around my house. If you recall, Trevor is the Bunny's son. My stepson. Since I finally settled down into a job I could live with that created a regular income stream for myself (so not exclusively a commission job; that little salary part makes all the difference in the world), I had the money to pay the postage to send Trevor's four boxes to England (in addition to spending probably an hour at the post office on a Saturday morning filling out customs forms, a huge drag). But I did it, and it felt good to get that little task off my plate. Out of my house and out of my sight. I don't expect Trevor's and mine's paths to ever cross going forward. I kind of place him in the same category as I do my mom. Not sure how I would react, what I would say, what I would do, because last I checked Trevor was one of those sources of pain and trauma for me. But, unlike my mom, Trevor's just a kid... with a lot of growing to do. So who knows. I'll cross that bridge if I ever come to it.

On the subject of my newest job - it's actually pretty perfect for me. I get to work from home, I get to work with teachers primarily (my favorite group of people, as my Liz could attest to), and I get to change a lot of kids' lives. So it's pretty meaningful work. It has to be... because past experience has proven to me that if it's just a paycheck, that isn't going to be enough. Not for me. In fact, the only "down" side - if you consider it a down side - is that I have to log in a high amount of phone calls every week. Historically speaking, I've always found it difficult making a bunch of phone calls, leaning towards the quality not quantity side of the spectrum. So I am still struggling for a good balance, and it's challenging, frustrating, maddening at times. But I remember - I'm not doing this for free. I get a salary, so I must do the activity. And if I can just force myself to get through this part, I am rewarded by all of the other parts that I love - working with passionate & energetic teachers, changing hundreds of kids' lives, and so forth and so on.

I didn't sleep well last night. It was actually Winnie that woke me up; four o'clock in the morning, and she is wheezing while wandering around the living room (where her and Canela crash for the night, each on her own doggy pillow). So I went to go check up on her, and when she finally settled back down I made a beeline for my warm blankets. It's been really cold lately; I think I saw somewhere that tonight it's supposed to get down to 39 degrees. Brrrrrr. Anything under 70 and I am starting to shiver. I know; California girl through and through.

So I floated the idea to my boss earlier today about me taking tomorrow as a personal day. He left it up to me, but reminded me I still needed to hit my target phone calls by the end of the week. So, that gave me my answer. I'll be working tomorrow, making a bunch of phone calls, trying to identify teachers that want to partner with me and change their students' lives... I may still need that day to myself - but I guess I will have to schedule it when it's more convenient in my new life. Oh well. I really AM back in the real world, because most people I know have to make these kinds of compromises all the time. You give something up to get that other thing. Those decisions become more difficult when each of your choices give you something that you want; it's easier when there's only one good choice and a bunch of crappy choices. That's more the scenario I am customarily used to. Or maybe it's just that I have fine-tuned my ability to see something good in any circumstance... which is what I've always made an effort to keep doing since the Bunny died. Bringing me back to tomorrow: three years ago, and the Bunny dies.

It's a significant day. I've known it was coming. I'll notice this day every year for the rest of my life. But it is one day. One day out of the 14,600 plus days in my lifetime (yes, I had to pull out a calculator for that one). But it no longer has the power to slow me down. Which makes me happy, and at the same time makes me sad.

I have one more post to do, scheduled for tomorrow. It's the last one in this chapter, but no worries... I intend to keep writing. Just like I intend to keep singing.

It's time to start a new chapter.

Peace.