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I did, in fact, make it out of my basement alive last week when I went to open the fireproof safe. My trip was a short one because I realized very quickly that I did not actually have a key to the safe – they key in question was on Jeff’s keyring, which was with him at Lake Ontario.
I found no evidence that any living dead things were in my basement.
I did, however, disrupt a few hundred teeny spiders, which creeped me right out. Meh.
The rest of the week was spent at my new job, trying to figure out which way is up, who can help me with what… and if there’s anyone there who actually knows what they are doing.
I have a card that I taped to my office wall which reads: Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. I bought the card a while ago, when I was feeling uncomfortable about all the uncertainty I was feeling about work and this coming fall, because I liked the idea that there’s some good that comes from being uncomfortable.
Because we’ve seen a lot of changes in our house this summer. Jeff, for example, took a position with his national office. His new gig will require a significant amount of travel, depending on where he’s staffed next… and we’re not sure when he’ll be staffed next. Or where the next engagement will be. We’re just waiting.
Owen will be starting third grade at the end of this month, which, in Massachusetts, means he’ll start yearly standardized testing. And book reports, and a lot more reading. As much as I’ve tried to get incent him to read this summer, he’s managed to read a whole TWO BOOKS on his own. (Which, I suppose is better than none?) Also, he will get a pair of glasses this week, which I normally would be excited about, except the optometrist told me, glasses might make it harder for him to focus on tasks that require close up vision.
Like book reports and reading, whee!
He’s also committed to doing a club soccer team, which means he’ll have practices two nights a week and games on Sundays. We do not know what his school workload will look like, nor when his practices might be.
And I have a new job, making much less money but with more regular hours, where I’ll be shouldering more of the burden of the home stuff. I’m not yet certain what my actual schedule will look like, though – can’t plan that until I know the two days that Owen will be heading to the afterschool program, which I can plan when I know when his soccer practices will be scheduled.
All this uncertainty has left me feeling, well, as if I’m at the end of my comfort zone. I feel unsettled, and I’m not sleeping well, and though I am trying to keep up my writing practice, I’m finding the same thoughts go through my head. Over and over and over.
I’m trying to PLAN, you see. Trying to put some order to the chaos. I’m always thinking and planning and wondering and trying to figure out the potential directions. My head right now is full of words and half-formed plans, fitting about me like the winged keys in the Chamber of Secrets, and I can’t see the real key – the one who can get me to the next room.
I’m definitely at the end of my comfort zone.
So is this is where life begins?