Since the death of my grandfather, I am feeling more and more motivated to follow what my heart is telling me to do. Seeing how wildly successful my grandfather was made me stop and say, "why not?" to school. To New York. To a new adventure as a young, single, aspiring designer.
The way I see it, my life has the possibility to go in two general directions at this point.
Direction #1: I stay in Seattle and continue to work for the company I do. There is no real guarantee that I will go further with this job or not, but, you know, its safe. Secure. Comfortable. I could save money and put that on a down-payment for a house or condo. Buy nicer furniture. Maybe find a boyfriend, eventually find a husband, then have some kids. All in all... just a sort of "settling down" process. Which would be so, whats the word, ME! I would do that. It would be really nice I am sure.
Direction #2: I move home. Save money. Move to New York City. Find some seedy apartment in a bad neighborhood to afford the rent. (Erg, I hope I am joking about this one). Go to school in the fabulous Upper East Side neighborhood of Manhattan. Ride the subway. Meet friends that say things like, "You need a qwuata? Or how about some wuata? Maybe a hat dag?" Learn about design in the CAPITOL of design. Go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Play in Central Park. Experience living in New York for approximately 3.5 years and yes mom, come back. Come back with new experiences, a new degree, a new expertise in my chosen field of work. Maybe come back with a boyfriend. Hopefully come back with more confidence and ability to be good at something. Come back with my weight like it was at age 18. (hahahahahahaha)
While all of this does sound quite dreamy and fun and adventurous, trust me.... I already feel the tightness in my chest of what doing something like this means. It means being away from my family. It means missing out on all of the fun and amazing things my cool friends do. It means feeling entirely alone in a city of millions of people. It will mean really hard work with no guarantee that my field will really need me. It means watching my money FLY out of my ears and nose into thin air. Can I really do this? I am feeling a little displaced at the moment because I cannot entirely unpack. My chest gets tight and I feel like crying every time I think about all my stuff sitting in a pile in the garage. When things are not in their "places" I am HIGHLY anxious. HIGHLY. If I am this anxious when my hairdryer is not in its hairdryer basket but in a drawer and I cannot find my brush and my socks are touching my *U's because they are in THE SAME DRAWER (gasp!), what am I going to do when I have to move across the country and I don't know where to buy toothpaste let alone figure out how to get my socks to not touch my U's? Can someone tell me this??? WHAT AM I EVEN THINKING!!
But, for now, I can still enjoy my family. For now, I can still hang out with my great friends and have dinner and watch movies and drink wine. For now, my life is still regular. Except for the fact that my socks are touching my U's.
*what my mother and grandmother call underwear.