Sometimes I am so worried about a situation that I fail to see the silver lining until it basically hits me in the head.
The situation at hand is that I am currently spending a month alone here in Corvallis. Evan got a teaching job at Beaverton High School and of course, had to move up to that area to start teaching the savages aka high school freshmen.
As much as I wanted to go with him, I had to realize that I have a full-time job here with my own breed of savages, also known as middle schoolers. The way the economy is now, I would be a tad more than moronic to leave a decently paying job and a place that I worked so hard to have a voice in because I am a little nervous about being left all by my lonesome.
Of course, on paper it seems really simple: He goes and makes moolah, and I stay here and make moolah, and at some point, we come back together and share said moolah.
But, if you will, picture our plan as a cross-country runner. This guy is running smoothly, nothing in his path, and the sun is shining.
Now. Picture a mean guy in a trenchcoat walking up to our runner and throwing a gigantic wrench in his path. making the runner run straight into a very well-grown patch of poison oak. We'll call this wrench Anxiety.
The truth of the matter is, I have anxiety. Pretty badly, actually, and the idea of being left alone every evening was terrifying. Not to mention just about doing everything alone. I couldn't fathom grocery shopping alone, or running errands all by myself. It was too daunting.
So, back to our runner. He's picked himself out of the poison oak, and albeit itchy, he keeps going.
And, out of the bushes springs a crazy, rabid animal with a penchant for aluminum foil and all plants and he sinks his teeth into the runner's leg.
We'll call this crazy, rabid animal Newton. Frankly, this cat is really bizarre. I feel like a single parent (okay, maybe 1/100000th of what they feel) when I'm home alone with this feline. He gets into just about everything that isn't bolted down or welded shut, he eats everything (his latest meals: a magnet, bamboo leaves, gravel, and a large piece of aluminum foil), and then takes just about the smelliest poops I have ever experienced. And, trust me, I know animal poop.
So now our runner is itchy, and bleeding. As he's limping along, let's say that a very angry looking raincloud bursts open right on top of this poor guy, and a torrential rainfall begins to fall on him. Since this guy is an Oregonian right down to the core, the rain itself doesn't bother him so much as the absolute swamp of mud this rain is creating for him, bogging down his every step forward.
We'll call this muddy slop Loose Ends That Need Tying Up. On one hand, a month seems like forever, and when I think of all the little things I have to do, I feel like I am already out of time. And money.
What's crazy about this metaphor, is that our runner will eventually get to the finish line, and he'll be stronger after such a journey. And so will I.
I will take this time to live for myself down here; to go shopping for shoes I don't need but desperately want without Ev behind me looking like I dragged him into the store. I can browse for makeup or books for hours and not have to worry about anything or anyone but myself. I can learn a lot about myself that maybe I missed out on by living with someone for the last 3 years. It's so easy to put someone else that you care so deeply about before you and even lose yourself in that devotion. This is my chance to find myself again a little bit. To take a slightly scary journey that I know will have its fair share of obstacles, but in the end I will make it to Beaverton, and I'll be stronger when I get there.
And, at least, I don't actually have Poison Oak.
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2 comments:
I believe this is one of the best metaphors you have written.
I liked it a lot!
You are such a good writer :)
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