highs and lows

when Ben and I moved to Dubuque last year, I was fortunate enough to go remote for my job. a job I loved in part because of my coworkers and the people who surrounded me every day. working from home was an adjustment, but I was thankful to still have a career that I enjoyed and that I was raking in cash to spoil Lucy (wink so hard).

 

it didn’t take long, however, for the newness of working from home to become the bad kind of mundane. after the first week I stopped getting up early enough to rinse off, brush my teeth, and put on clean clothes. it also took Ben less than a week to realize he needed to come home for lunch every day, otherwise I would talk his ear off the first hour he was home after work, let’s be serious the first five hours, probably about how a bird ran into our window, or that some jerk of a person went speeding by our house and don’t they know that there are children in our neighborhood?!

 

I also quickly became my Grandma Dargatz (seriously, not good). I started keeping mental notes (and let’s be real, sticky notes) about my neighbors comings and goings. I severely judged them for not letting their dog out to go to the bathroom until 11 am every morning, when I knew it hadn’t been outside since 7 pm. I honestly have to stop typing because I have a little shame about how much I cared about nothing that matters.

long story short, I wasn’t very happy with my professional life. I wasn’t very happy sitting at home all day looking like a scrub. yes, I could have gotten up earlier to “get ready” before I started my work day. yes, I could have joined more than just my once a month book club. but I didn’t. I was unhappy. Ben knew it. Lucy knew it. I felt like everyone knew it before I realized it was time to make a change. fortunately a combination of dramatic happenings at my previous job and some serious serendipitous (how’s that for alliteration?) timing, made it easy for me to say buh-bye to my life as an editor.

sometime in April I accepted a position with McGraw Hill and to be honest (or tbh as the internet is saying these days), April was really touch and go because the background check process they put me through was like a season of Survivor and the worst episode of Naked and Afraid. I obviously thought I should pass (because I haven’t Dextered anyone), and after numerous sleepless nights and screaming to someone at the background check place that “if you can get in contact with the stupidheads I freelanced for that took months and months to call me back and to pay me, then go ahead and try dammit,” I finally passed. I think that’s a run-on sentence/the worst sentence ever, but if it comes off nearly as dramatic as my days of living it, then mission accomplished. all. woe. every. day.

during the interim of hating my professional life and starting a new job, I pretended to plan my little wedding heart out. and my life looked a little like this:

1. panic every night around 10:00 pm just as I went to bed
2. wonder over and over how everything “comes together”
3. get excited about everyone celebrating together
4. get a little sad knowing it’s going to happen too fast

okay, so it hasn’t been nearly that melodramatic, but I am finally getting to the point where I’m just saying “yes” to make a decision, because while I think I might care a little bit about what the centerpieces look like, I really don’t. I just want to say my vows and put a ring on Ben’s finger.

speaking of rings, we went and picked out wedding bands last night and it was so much fun that I might make us do it again before we buy them. I wouldn’t let us purchase them last night because they only take a few weeks to come in and I quickly envisioned myself wearing it until September. no patience. none.

anyway, we both liked the first ring that each of us put on, and like everything else for the wedding, making a decision felt easier than it should be. it’s in these moments that I am constantly reminded me why I am marrying Ben. because even in the most chaotic chaos, we weather the storm together and all of the mountains look like mole hills. insert other idioms I am missing here.

I might never get over how funny perspective is, but it always feels good to get to a place where you can reflect on what you’ve gone through and open a bottle of red to toast that you’ve survived. and for now, I still have to go think about a thousand more dots that need to be connected before September 10.

108 days until #GoingGill.