Sleepless in Seattle


space needle

The sun has come out over this beautiful city that would be more densely populated if it had California weather. Last night I dragged myself to Wholefoods in a Dutch drizzle because I forgot to eat all day (this jetlag diet does wonders for my waistline). Joggers, unbothered by the rain, passed me by and in a giant studio women were doing yoga, while I noticed there was a Starbucks at almost every corner. So different from Ireland where you have a pub at every corner. The welcome at Amazon was warm and the office cosmopolitan compared to the Cork affair.

This is my second week away from home, and no doubt jetlag plays into this but I have been asking myself why I made this plunge. I miss Will, but he’s a big boy (supposedly) and I guess, the worst is missing Caroline who is in her junior year and the toughest year, and Jon, whose birthday will roll by in two days, but I can’t be there to celebrate it with him. Curiously, I thought the Ireland trip would be the hard part, but being here and getting a sense of the humongous job that is ahead of me, plus trying to blend in, inside the project which has many new tools I haven’t worked with yet, I feel a bit intimidated, like, as my 18th century lit professor would say at Chapel Hill, “a fly on a Gothic cathedral.” Localization is cool, but not my passion as is reading, writing and teaching. I have forced myself to retrain myself because I was so very much burned out on the work climate at Cal (see my post on Why I left academia), but I also feel a resistance to learning new SOP’s (lol– I am learning in that sense; the corporate world is so acronym obsessed) and in the end, moving to Ireland where I feel, as I felt when I was a student, moving to a new town where I know “kip noch kraai” with that difference that when you’re young, you’re more flexible and when you are a student, there are parties galore to get your mind off of all that sentimental humbug.

This is all driven by self-pity, surely, and I should feel blessed for working in a niche industry where my mediocre skills actually seem to matter, but it’s an odd experience to find myself here and I wish I weren’t such a whiner at times. This is part of my cultural DNA– Dutchies like to complain and in the States I have learned not to, but when I am tired because of lack of sleep, the old Dutch uncle comes blasting through, wagging his finger and saying, wtf are you doing? I honestly don’t know but should venture out and admire the Space Needle which is just around the corner from here, and remind myself that good things come only to those who try…

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Sleepless in Seattle

  1. hisgen says:

    The Dutch may be whiners but you’re not! You’re adventurous! A true pioneer.

  2. Barbara says:

    Do as the ther girls do, find a yoga (or pilates) space to practice. Under guidance of a good and loving teacher. Reconnecting with your body will gwt you out of your mind. En inderdaad niet klagen! (Klein beetje mag best want het is me nogal wat) x

  3. Melanie says:

    We always think of an adventure as being exciting and new and fresh, but all this self doubt and interior “adventure” is part of it too….. sounds like you have a whole pack of people inside your own head, all sounding off. Luckily, you also have a wise voice there who is able to call off that finger wagging uncle. These moments sound scary — self doubt is what the Rocky Mountains were to Lewis and Clark.

  4. Susan says:

    Indeed Melanie. Such good insight. “the world is unfolding as it should” as my favorite yoga teacher used to say.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s