It's One of Those Days

It's one of those days where I just really need to get something down on paper. Or rather, out of my brain and on to a page, of sorts. I often wish my days could just be filled with quiet downtown coffee shops with laptops and art and music but there's that little thing called rent and paying bills that keeps getting in the way.

The other day I was describing to my friend Ryan how I just wanted a job at a place where they would let me be myself. To some degree I have that; I have the freedom to have days off in the middle of the week to go to this and that concert, I can sleep in on a Monday and ease into a new week. But I still have to follow by all the corporate rules. I feel like I'm torn between this vision that I've always had for myself in my head of a successful woman working in a corporate environment with a very put together life and this person that I think I'm maybe becoming.

I blame my parents.

I grew up in the most normal of homes. Everything was stable and there was a very clear plan for how our lives should look. Which was almost exactly the route my father and his father took as well. I think all four of his children have fallen short of his hope for us. But really, that's the American Dream; the life where you achieve things in stages and there's little room for excitement.

School, College, Job, Marriage, House, Baby.

It's all so neat and tidy. It's all so...last generation.

My brain is still convinced that this is correct. That this is the way my life should go and I need to hit all these milestones to be a real person.

My life has really been something like: School, College, Realize College Isn't For Everyone, Move Away From Everything You Know, Make It Work For Who You Are.

That's pretty much as far as I've gotten in 26 years. I think I just need to break away from this mold that I grew up in. I can slowly feel myself peeling out of it but I'm still afraid of what shape I might take on my own. Because if I get a tattoo, it's never coming off. That will be me forever.

It seems like some sort of crossroads. My brain is convinced that it's one or the other: the JCrew corporate life or the tattooed dysfunctional hourly job life. They're probably not mutually exclusive. I just still have that voice in my head telling me that tattoos are not okay, and I have this vision that going to shows is for the youths. And that maybe you need to grow up and snap out of it. But this is pretty much who I am 100% of the time. I might just be afraid to own it. And those people, those heavily tattooed, show going punks have real lives. And jobs. And people allow them to just be who they are. And that's very nice.

Maybe it's time to branch out again. Maybe it's time to see what else this city has to offer. I have to get this image out of my head of who I think I am supposed to be. Or who my parents think I should be. Because let's be honest, I've already fallen short of their expectations. But I'm starting to live up to my own.

It's so silly that even after 26 years I'm still trying to figure all of this out. I'm still trying to grow up. I wonder when that ever ends.

I'm listening to Bastille on repeat because I was unable to procure tickets to tonight's show. And I'm having a pity party about it. It's not even my fault because they sold out in like a day. Rude, everyone else. That's quite inconsiderate of my needs. But I'm secretly hoping they're going to be at one of the mini-festivals this summer that I already have plans to attend. (Bumbershoot and Summer Camp.)

Fingers crossed for those beautiful British men to make their appearance in the PNW once more this year. At least.

It's another one of those times when I should be sleeping but my brain will not shut down. My body is so tired, having woken up at 3:30 this morning but my brain is just buzzing away, thinking of all the things. All the everythings. Not that I can focus this brain energy on anything efficient; I wanted to make a list of things to accomplish on my day off and the only thing I came up with was "Make a list."

Productive. Just really inspired.

I just can't land on anything long enough to actually think it through, to process how I feel about it. I am just ready for these next 5 weeks to be over so I can take a breath and make a plan.

But I have a super fun party to plan and Easter and roommate's parent's visit and May the Fourth Weekend and Franz Ferdinand and Bellevue 5k Volunteer Event and Corporate Visit and Grand Re-opening and Coffee Master to finish and trip to Montana and then breathingggggg. And sleeping for like a week.

I really enjoy being busy but I feel like all of this is right on the cusp of something else, something that I'm doing all of this for but I don't know what it is. All of this random planning for different things without anything after that seems hollow. But then I'm sure there will be many more things to plan after that.

I'm already tired.

Maybe I need an end goal. Once all this goes down I should have a better timeline. Yeah, timeline. That sounds nice.

But what sounds even nicer right now is my bed. Onward to shut off my brain!

you're using an awful lot of metaphors.

I'm sitting here in this messy room on the third floor overlooking the tiny valley with a view of just the corner of Lake Washington from the balcony. It's home.

It's been nearly four years since I left Montana and I literally can't imagine anything different anymore. Everything has panned out in a way I never could have imagined and my FOMO (which has become it's own internet acronym now) seems silly and ill-placed. I realize that fear was completely internal; it was a fear of growing up and becoming a real person.

I grew up.
And I still have a long way to go.

But that's a different story.

What I'm really thinking about at 2 am (which is WAY past my bedtime especially since I have to be up at 3:30 some days) is coffee. It's a thing I think a lot about these days for sundry reasons.

I'm also thinking about how I need to put away my laundry and vacuum, how I'm going to work out tomorrow if my knee is still aching, and when, oh, when I'm going to carve out time to call my grandparents. But I'm listening to Postal Service on Pandora and it's really putting me in a funny mood. Somehow nostalgic and forward-looking at the same time.

And let's talk about how Ben Gibbard married Zooey Deschanel and they lived in Seattle for a chunk of time in those apartments on Capitol Hill. But that's also beside the point.

I think I've maybe made a decision about my life. There are obviously no guarantees but it's funny how sometimes things just work out. I've made a very intentional effort to move forward. I've been stagnant for some time. Even in moving forward I've been stagnant. I've done what I've had to do to stay on top, always being the best, always doing the next thing in the line of things I'm doing to impress whoever I need to impress.

But this time I stopped.

I stopped and considered my position. Where I was, who was around me, where I could go. I stopped unintentionally moving forward so I could change direction, maybe somewhere I actually want to be. People keep asking me: "When are you going to be an ASM?" "How long until you have your own store? You would be a great store manager." "Are you going to stay at this store?"

Never. Never am I going to do these things that are in the immediate line of what I'm already doing.

Does that answer your question?

I am in this hub, this coffee hub. I often forget the magnitude of the company I work for. My sight line can be so small: register to bar, oven to hand-off plane, cup to mouth. But when I hear things like, "Howard mentioned your store at Shareholders last week and oh, he'll probably be in within the next 1-3 months," (Thank you for that excellent time frame, that's something I can really prepare for) it really reminds me of where I am.

Howard is the last person I have to meet. I've met and trained the VP of Retail, made a poor quality cappuccino for the President of Starbucks America and accidentally pawned the mistake on someone else, had a lively debate with the President of Starbucks Canada. I usually underestimate the significance of the things that are happening around me, it's so routine. It's like there's this constant buzzing but I'm so used to it I don't hear it anymore.

So I'm listening, I'm stopping and taking a different path. One that I might have to carve out for myself a little bit. I'm not following everyone's advice. I have a plan. I'm making it happen. I'm learning the ways to get ahead in this company and in business. I hate it; I think it has nothing to do with real skill but I'm playing their game. I'm networking. I'm setting up meetings at corporate and being strategic in who I meet and when and what paths to cross to make the networking stronger. I'm name-dropping. I'm schmoozing. It might be something I'm really good at, but then, I've always known that. I've been in customer service for 8 years and I've schmoozed my whole way through and impressed a lot of people. Now I'm schmoozing with a purpose. I'm thinking about coffee and what coffee can do for me. I have a goal and I have a plan.

It's funny that now I have some solid idea, everyone is telling me it's the wrong thing, the wrong path.
I've never been more excited to prove everyone wrong.

I have a meeting at corporate in about a month with a guy in the Global Coffee department. I'm going to get a time frame and an idea of where I can actually fit and how I can get to where I eventually want to be. Because I think I know that.

Do I know what I want to be when I grow up? No. I probably never will. But I think I've found something I would love doing, that would keep me fully engaged and excited, and would challenge me. Something I may have to work for. I've always done things because I've been good at them; I want to do something because I want to do it.

And herein lies the challenge: a future of my own design, and one that I might actually want.