Tuesday, October 31, 2006

What I need

I forced myself out of bed and to the rink on Friday morning because I thought it’d be good for me. Crawling out of bed at 6:00 am to skate on my day off of work is mildly insane on a normal day; after the day I had on Thursday, it seemed downright stupid. Staying in my warm bed felt like admitting defeat, so I brewed a cup of tea and pulled on my tights and tried to convince myself that driving to the rink would be worth my time and effort.

I skated amazingly well. Fridays are difficult for me on a good week. The weight of the week seems to pull on me. Jumps are smaller. Spins aren’t centered. Connecting moves are labored and sluggish. There was a bit of that (there always is), but not to the extent that it should have been. I should’ve skated horribly. I spent half of the previous night sobbing, after all.

I went to Mom and Dad’s house after I skated, like I do every Friday. Mom, who usually works from home on Fridays, was at a conference, so it was just me and Stevie. I planned to shower, change into an ragged pair of sweats, and spend the day watching television and moping.

And then my grandma called. She invited me to go with her over to Aunt Marie’s house to make lasagna, which was on the menu for the family party we were having at her house on Sunday.

I assumed that Mom had called Grandma and set up some sort of a suicide watch. “Alyson’s upset. I’m out of town. Can you babysit her on Friday?” I don’t like it when I make people worry, so I agreed to go.

Later, I found out (when she asked me if I’d found out any news about the job) that Grandma hadn’t been told my bad news. I wasn’t on suicide watch after all.

It was nice anyway. The distraction was good. There’s nothing like looking at your aunt, who is finally beginning to walk a year after she broke her ankle, and getting a little bit of perspective on life. And I learned how to make vegetable lasagna. Delicious vegetable lasagna.

The minute Grandma dropped me off at Mom and Dad’s house, I was itching to leave again. My mom wanted to smother me with her sympathy. And, for whatever reason, I just didn’t want to hear it from her.

Lucy and I met up for a pity party.

Admittedly, Lucy has it worse than me. She graduated last December and has yet to find steady, full time employment. She’s lost, frustrated, bouncing around the idea of going to grad school but fearful that, once she graduates, she’ll be in the same boat. Just with more student loans to pay off.

We moped together at Starbucks. We grumbled through a phenomenal meal at our favorite restaurant. We traded stories, offered support, reminded each other that we weren’t the only ones in this unsteady boat, and collectively wondered what the hell we were going to do.

We never came to any grand conclusions. There were no solutions. But I went to bed on Friday night feeling so much better. The outlook was not any less gloomy. But I would live.

I will live.


Amy said...

the hardest part of "growing up" to me was when I realized that there's never a point in your life when all the pieces really come together. You are always juggling, and you're always hoping for the next step, but the key (it seems to me) is to learn to be happy with what you HAVE. You have such a wonderful life, with a wonderful, supportive family and terrific friends. Don't trade this moment away for anything. Enjoy it. For the good and the bad, you are learning so much and each part of the process helps to full establish who you are in this world.

Lady said...

Ah, perspective. It doesn't take the pain away, but makes you feel a whole lot better about the bigger picture! Nobody warns graduates that what the next few months hold is a horrible world of being over-qualified and under-valued.

It'll work out :)

Anonymous said...


Unknown said...

Keep Going. Such a nice site and glad I have you linked! I can remember reading Peggy Fleming's BIO about 4 years ago and it was terrific! Hang in!!!

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