I had drinks with Mel tonight. What can I say. Real, deep, soulful friends in general, and Mel in particular—well, if you’ve had the joy of having a soul sister, and if you’re lucky to know my Mel, you know it was a good night. To connect, to share, to support and be supported. To laugh at ourselves, at each other, but mostly at the douche bags who make themselves known in a bar after a certain hour. It was a short, sweet, very much needed night.
As is often the case after a good heart-to-heart, I have to pause and think what’s going on with me: in my mind, my heart and my spirit. There’s a little ennui and winter doldrums happening, bien sur. But a few things have been percolating lately.
• Work. My new creative director is awesome. Ahhh, I am relieved and elated and couldn’t be happier with him as a person or a boss. Gone are the days of feeling overloaded and overwhelmed. I can’t believe we had no leadership for five months.
I’ve been having that dreading-going-to-work feeling. I walk into the office and feel deflated and defeated. What is it exactly? The space, for one. It’s a mess. I’ve had four desks in two months. They’re totally out in the open—we’re all sitting together in the same room, computers exposed, no telephones, no privacy, just huddled together. But there’s no togetherness. There’s no character, no soul, no fun. And that’s how I feel about my colleagues and the French in general: cold. Unfeeling. Unwelcoming. When I do get a tremor or warmth or compassion or a glimpse of goofiness, I swell up a water balloon that’s going to pop. What’s this feeling?! Where is it coming from? Where has it been hiding? It’s been absent for so long, I don’t know what to do with it. Because I don’t really trust anyone at work. Everyone is there to do a job and that’s all. There’s no empathy or bonding or spirit, and when I have experienced those one day, they're gone the next. It's a totally different culture.
• Milo. He’s so needy. Yes, he’s adorable and I love him and am so happy I have him here with me. But he’s literally always meowing for more food, more attention, more play. And the more I give him, the more he needs. He drives me batty.
• No time. I’m trying to do too much. This is something I do all the time. I don’t like saying no to social or professional opportunities. But I also know I’m a cranky mouse when I’m tired and spread too thin. So I need to make commitments to some projects and drop the others. Hmmm… on the to-do list.
And I’m pissed I haven’t met anyone. There. I’ve said it. I try to be a good sport about being single. I try to rationalize and defend and really understand why I’ve had not one date in 10 months in the City of Loooove. But I walk down the street and see all the misfits who have found someone, I see the idiots who don’t know how good they have it, I see gorgeous creatures staring into each other’s eyes, oblivious to any- and everything except their elation and emotion and connection to this one other person. And I think, what about me? I’m not Giselle, but I’m not chopped liver. Why haven’t I met anyone? This is bullshit.
Voila. State of the union. Stay tuned.