Big changes, indeed. How's this for another: a mere two days before I was turfed (also fun & dramatic!) I signed closing papers on my gorgeous downtown condo, a condo I put up for sale because I "wanted a change".
Why does the universe only listen to some of the things you say?
So, there I was and here I still am: Jobless AND Homeless.
I had a ten minute "woe is me" meltdown where I contemplated how I went wrong in my life to find myself in such dire straights and what was I going to do and what a loser I was, wherein my brother (of course) told me to, and I quote "shut the fuck up. you want me to feel bad for you?! you have no obligations. you have more money in the bank than most people. you're getting paid to do nothing for a fucking long time. no Olga. no. just shut up, shut the fuck up. go do all those stupid things you do and stop feeling sorry for yourself. no one's buying it." Because he's totally right, of course - all those things are completely true. We are not dwellers or "woe is me" types in my family and I certainly subscribe to the family creed, but this was a huge big deal for me. My everything was gone, I think ten minutes was an adequate time to wallow before having some sense whipped back into me.
And with that, my summer of freedom started off remarkably well. I was going to take this time, this "gift" as my previously severed (more dramatic than fun) co-horts referred to it, and just chill. I was going to enjoy my first summer off since I was fourteen and just hang. And hang I did. I puttered. I worked on a show with Second City. I packed. I had many coffees. I did some pilates. I ate. I enjoyed the rascals. I started wearing my hair curly because I'm carefree now. Summer came to an end, and in September I dove head first into TIFF. And now it's October and I'm on a dream vacation in Asia where I had initially planned to sort of start thinking about what I'm going to do with my life. Trouble is, I've spent more time contemplating Khao Soi Curry or Pad Thai for dinner.
It's just. It's just so VAST. The slate is clean. I could move to Mumbai (likely not). I could buy a little seaside cottage in Nova Scotia and work at a local craft store (this is the first time I thought of that one, and it sounds rather nice aside from the craft store part). I could go back to school (for what I am completely unsure). I could write a book (this is a dream of mine, and quite honesty I really really want to). I could do all those things. I could. I could. I could. I could also get back on my corporate saddle and begin anew doing the same sort of thing I did before. And therein lies the rub. How wasted would this time, this "gift", be if I did that? I would squander this chance to search inside myself, on someone else's dime, to find out what I truly want to do. What I can truly be. Who I truly am. No freakin' pressure, none at all. Which is why I feel somewhat paralysed. I don't know what to do because I don't want to blow this. Or, worse still, what if I find out that I really DO want to be a corporate in charge type who has all the answers and thanklessly gets the job done. Quelle let down! Now here's the best part: I'm not totally worried about it. I mean, I am generally concerned about where my life is headed - and we haven't even mentioned where I'm going to live! - just not overly so. I have a belief that it will all work out, and not in some magical fairy dust kind of way but for real. It will all work out for real because once committed I work damn hard. And I'm not dumb (although, seriously, my computer skills are terrible so let's hope my new calling has none of that). It's the unknown, the possibilities and the countless options I'm having trouble with. Life's menu has far too many entrees on it right now. And answering the million dollar question has me stumbling.
Now what?*