Sometimes you have to go looking for it....

There have been a few times in the past couple of years when I've tried to remember the last time I felt happy and couldn't do it. It makes me sad just to say that, to say that I had no memory of those moments when you stop and suddenly realize, "I am happy." I could say I was surviving, that I was getting by, that I was making it through the day, that I was productive, that I carried on, that I kept my chin up...but happy?

A few weeks ago I was talking to my BFF from back home and recalling going home for the holidays, how wonderful it felt to be with my family and friends, how great I slept in my mom's guest room, how loved I felt. And when I returned home, after a two-day drive, to my roommate packing up to stay the night at her daughter's house (it was New Year's Eve) and how I had to hold back shrieks of pure joy that I was going to have the house to myself and a quiet night and a shower and clean sheets and my cat and my dog curled up in my warm bed...and I realized it was JULY and the last time I could remember being happy was in fucking JANUARY (well, technically December 31). It made me sad, but before the pity could kick in, I took a giant step back and asked myself, "have you been looking?"

I hadn't. I'd been so consumed with surviving that I was failing to thrive. In pediatric medicine, this is something infants can die from: failure to thrive. It can also be applied to adults, mostly geriatric. I wondered when I became such a grown up that I forgot to look for the joy. One doesn't need freedom from worry to be happy - or money, or the perfect job, or any job, or confidence, or all of the other things on my crazy mental checklist that I waited for so I could finally thrive again.

Granted, in the past couple of months I have been able to cross a few things off that list. I have a roommate to take some of the pressure of the bills off and a new job that I really like, which means a regular paycheck every two weeks. But I was still holding back, still denying myself, still insisting on frugality, refusing to spend a penny on anything I deemed "unnecessary."

Last Saturday, I went to lunch with the roommate and a friend and we stopped at a big box store afterward so the roommate could return something. I found myself wandering the school supplies aisles with my friend, exclaiming over pencil cases and notebooks and gel pens. I had a wonderful sense memory smelling a box of crayons. I remembered that the best thing about the new school year when I was a kid was the new school supplies: a brand new notebook, pens, pencils, a binder (or if I was lucky, a Trapper Keeper, pink - and damn, do they make cooler ones now), paper and dividers and pencil cases. And the waxy smell of crayons.

Standing there, in the middle of rows and rows of Hello Kitty notebooks and pencil sharpeners and multi-packs of pens and wide-ruled filler paper, I realized this was me being happy. Feeling joy. Remembering the possibilities that came with a new school year. Thinking about the possibilities that lie ahead of me now. And I bought that box of crayons. Even if I never use them, I am going to keep them on my desk at home to remind me of what possibility really feels like. Possibility smells like a new box of crayons.

On the job hunt front....

I've been awfully lax about keeping this site updated, but I have a good excuse: I've been working for almost a month at a new day job! For those of you who know me well and who have been keeping up with my (often amusing) tales during my job search, you know how great this news is for me. And I am happy to report that I love the new job. I'm online content editor for a high-tech company here in Austin, I get to work with a great group of creative people (I hadn't realized how much I've missed working with designers and art directors and having magazines like HOW scattered about), I have a regular schedule and also get to have weekends like normal people.

It took a few weeks to settle into the routine, the putting on of makeup and clothes that don't have stretch waistbands, shoes that aren't flip-flops and doing something to my hair other than putting it up in a ponytail. I miss my dog while I'm at work, but she's thrilled to see me every day when I get home so it all evens out. I also do not love the sitting in traffic, but I love the job so that evens out too (plus it gives me lots of time to listen to my favorite podcasts; time passes quickly when you're catching up on episodes of "This American Life").

And (AND!) I have some great stories about the job search. I had been freelancing since Sept./Oct. of last year so I could take my time and look for the right job for me and went on lots of interviews in an eight-month time period. I was talking to a friend last weekend about Karma and arrogance and hubris and how I often felt like I was being punished for something (pride, lack of compassion, taking pride in my lack of compassion) when I was working my way up the ladder. I believe we can learn a lot from the Universe if we just pay attention and it didn't take me long to start paying attention. In fact, I felt like I had a couple of interviews with the person I used to be - and I didn't like her very much.

I've learned to be grateful. I've learned humility. I've learned how to let go of the past. Most importantly, I've learned that I'll never stop learning. I plan to spend more time here, more time writing, getting back to personal narrative (because my mind is usually itching to after spending a full workday editing high-tech web pages) and to let my job be a job, not my identity.

Speaking of letting a job be a job, I've promised my friend and fellow writer Angie Mizzell a guest post and I'm hoping she hasn't crossed me off of her list yet, as I have a post in mind about that very topic.

Love you, mean it.