This Must Be the Place

"Hey Jen, um, just want to let you know that, uh, next Thursday will be my last day."

Since 2004 I have had four different jobs.  I started out as a "sales associate" at Party City during my senior year of high school.  I went on to put in two years at an assisted living facility, six months at a Big Apple Bagel, and just over two years at National City Bank (now PNC). 

It is surprisingly hard for me to leave my branch.  I have complained about my co-workers, some more than others, but I know them.  I know their stories, I know how to relate to them, I know how they relate to me.  In about a week I will say goodbye to my family of the past two years, and dive head first into the icy waters of a new job.  In a new city.  With people who already know one another's stories.

I am officially moving to Chicago.  I am leaving the safety of my parents' home behind.  My sister and her family will no longer be six miles away, but more like 300.  I have to leave the paths that I wore down over the last twenty-three years to blaze new ones.

I am excited.  Just not right now.  Right now I am terrified.  I am so unbelievably upset about leaving this all behind.  I want to undo all of it.  I want to stay where it's safe, where it's warm, where I don't feel loneliness.

I wish I had the luxury of easing in to this move.  I want to adjust to my new apartment, my new city, before immersing myself in a new job.  I want to bring my branch with my customers (even the angry ones) with me.  I would love one constant. 

Stopping the loving, getting in,,,

I need to be careful.

I've been talking pretty candidly about my eventual flight from Michigan. And while it is in my head that this will happen before November, there is still the chance that it won't. Money...job...school...place to live, all are variables that could make my exodus a no-go.

Those are big variables. But, I think my sheer will and desperation for a change of pace can overpower them.

I've been thinking a lot about this and am slowly realizing that its not the people I want to leave behind, its not the city, and no, its not the four months of cloudy skies and lake effect blizzards.

Its me.

I want to leave myself behind. Last night I kept myself awake, replaying the four years I spent at JHS over in my mind. As long as I stay here, in this same spot, I will feel like the awkward, fat, pimply 17 year old girl with mismatched shoes and bad jeans.



Me, circa 2004. Also pictured, Ann's Van.

This girl had weird taste in music, as that was the year I developed an unhealthy obsession with Disney and Good Charlotte. She believed that Old Navy was the only store worth shopping, and fantasized about a home-schooled boy with a receding hairline. Eyebrow plucking was something she never considered and she colored her hair with a cap and a box. (She also carried a duct taped box of crayolas with her to each class).

If this had been your history, you would have trouble sleeping at night as well.

I've outgrown most of those habits, however I still sing along when "Just Around the Riverbend" pops up on my ipod, and as I type this I am wearing leggings from Old Navy.

But anyway. Five years later and I still feel the exact same way I felt when I was 17. Not a good thing for a girl embarking on the end of her college career. Its hard to find a high powered position when you feel like a sniveling pimply high school junior.

I know I don't look like that girl anymore. I keep my craziness under wraps, and I know how to handle myself in most social situations, but that girl is always in the mirror. She's always in the back of my mind. I need to leave her here for a while. That's why I want to go.

I want to meet all new people who don't know the girl who unsuccessfully ran for student council, stayed in choir beyond her prime, served as the publicist for the Thespian troupe, and worked at Party City.

This is where it gets good, right?

The Weather Outside is Frightful.

I don't want to throw out the term "Seasonal Depression". Gambles are taught not to believe in things like ADHD, Bipolar disorder, and other fairly recent additions to the DSM.

But its snowing.

And my mood is foul.

I have experienced white Christmases for twenty-two years now. I'm telling you, they are all overrated. For some reason, these icy white shards of death, that have the power to turn the gorgeous trees we worshiped all autumn into bony skeletons, are romanticized. The snow and ice that latch onto the tires of my car and shove them towards snow banks and deep watery ditches are heralded in 80% of all Christmas carols.

It was easy for Bing Crosby to dream of a white Christmas, he had the option of spending his holiday in a swanky, retro LA sound stage, sipping martinis and slapping Rosemary Clooney around between takes.

I haven't spent the last twenty-two years hating snow, but I never LOVED it. Sledding was never a pleasure for me, and I've only gone skiing once.

The last time I greeted snow with a smile was during my freshman year at WMU. I remember the glee that rushed over all the girls of fifth floor LeFevre when those first flakes of the season fell. Christmas music filled the hall and everyone was in good spirits.

I think my absolute contempt for this weather began the winter I totaled my car (2007).




I was on my way to pick up Ann from her apartment near campus, and I slammed into the back end of a pick up, completely destroying the front end of my car. The roads weren't even all that bad at the time, but it was winter. I had to stand in the snow waiting for the police and tow truck to show up. Since then my hostility towards the snow has only grown.

I've done 180s on the way to class, slid into snow banks on the way to work, and white-knuckled my steering wheel while taking an hour and half to drive twelve miles.

My friends used to tell me: "If you hate winter so much, why don't you move out of Michigan?"

Now that I am seriously considering a move to warmer weather, I'm getting "Really? You're going to leave everything behind because of snow?"

Stop.

I can't live in a place where I'm terrified to leave my house four months out of the year.

They are forecasting a blizzard that is supposed to last from Tuesday night to Thursday. I've had enough of this.