I once heard a friend describe himself as an enigma. I love that. Aren't we all, to some extent? I know of a few men who've said they just don't understand me.
I am an oxymoron. For instance, I hate change. HATE it. I would love for everything to stay exactly the same every day from now until the day I die. I like to know exactly where everything is (which is another minor oxymoron...things are never where they should be...) I like to know exactly what to expect in every situation. Now, I can see how this could sound as though I have control issues. But really, it's not like that at all. I just don't want things to change and therefore I get a tad control-freaky. However, you do it my way and no one gets hurt. This is why I'm a supervisor. I control the situation. It's where I'm most comfortable. So while I seem cool, calm and collected...it's just part of my sinister plan to ensure nothing changes.
...and here's where the oxymoron inconveniently pops in for a visit. I crave change. Crave it. I get this itch (no, not that kind of itch...) The itch of change. I start to day dream about moving to a bigger house (touche...a bigger basement suite would be more accurate) with a backyard that Q can play in, and a dog - ohhhh, a dog. And then I start to think about how much I hate my job, and oh boy does that grass ever look green over there. Seriously, it happens about every 2-3 years. I had the 'itch' 6 years ago and moved 1000km from home to this fabulous ocean side city. Got knocked up (okay, was blessed 'with child') that same week. Talk about a change. Three years later, child and I moved into our own place - perfection means you beat a dead horse dead just to prove it's really, super dead. Two years after that moved to another place that was a little bigger. As far as jobs go, I go thru those on average every year or so. And this was not by choice. Lay-off's in the airline industry are uh, common...I'm sure you've heard...
I decided that huge changes were in the works. I mean, I've been living in the same place for two years, and my job...a year and a half. I am due, my friends, I am due. Two weeks ago, I had a job interview for this job that just seemed totally awesome. It was me. Absolutely me. My first clue that the interview was going down hill was when the interviewer started checking out her manicure instead. Isn't that the international sign of boredom, picking at your cuticles? Needless to say, I did not get the job.
Then the other day, I found this awesome little house for rent. A house!!! I was sick with excitement (and fear....) It had a fenced in yard, a dishwasher, and a washer and dryer - it's the simple things. It looked like a little piece of heaven. And the price was incredible. I was in love. I was soooo excited...until I google mapped it. It's in a "light" industrial area, which in this case means a block away from a railway hub. Those of you who know me, know how I love my sleep.
Two attempts at change, and twice it didn't work out. You know what this tells me? It tells me that I am right where I'm supposed to be. Maybe if I'm looking for change, I should consider a new book, or hair colour. I'm staying right where I am. I might not know the reasons why I'm here, but it's never been more clear that 'here' is where I belong.