Lessons in Geography

I’m not going to spend the whole post complaining about Columbus but let’s just say that the differences in behavior between Chicago and it are, well, mountainous.

The first problem we noticed, were the drivers. If you see a car swerving, driving erratically or too slow for the road, I will bet you my pets that the driver is on his or her phone, looking at his or her phone, or even Facetiming, I’ve seen it all. I regularly see motorcyclists try to beat red lights and turn against arrows in busy traffic. I see cars cross the center line only to be horned back into position by the opposing car, daily. Add to this the lack of continuous sidewalks and lacking public transit, and you have a recipe. Every time I see a pedestrian walking along a shoulder, I cringe.

There is no public campaign to go hands-free or phoneless by threat of ticket. Cops are a rare sight indeed and I can’t say I’ve ever seen a police car just parked on a side street waiting to nab a scofflaw. Drivers ed I’m told, is but a faint whisper in the school system, and the terrible drivers are a known factor of living here. The locals joke about it.

And so, on Friday, after 15 months of residency, I was finally rear-ended. I don’t know if he was on his phone at the time but when we pulled into the nearest parking lot, he apologized immediately and said he wasn’t paying attention. Ok sir, I’ll take that as an admission of guilt (aside from the failure to stop in time and perhaps following too closely). It was a very low speed collision in bumper-to-bumper construction traffic, and because the kid with the Slow/Stop sign turned it too quickly for the person in front of me to make it through, they jammed on their brakes, I jammed on my breaks, and the guy behind me did not. It’s a miracle I didn’t hit the person in front of me, to be honest. I was within an inch. Like, parallel parking level where you pat yourself on the back when you get out of the car to admire your work, close.

I’ve tried to be open-minded. Chicago is an enormous city with diversity and hustle, everyone’s going somewhere and rushing, and our Habitrails are well-worn and ingrained. The drivers are only part of that, but what I’ve come to really realize is that the beauty of a large city, even if it seems people are terminally disengaged, is that they are keenly aware of what’s going on around them.

That car is probably going to hit me if I cross the street right now.
He’s about to change lanes into mine, I better slow down.
That guy is going to try to get around me with his cart, I should move to the side.
That woman is going to stop and ask me for money if I sit next to the open seat.

It’s a city of constantly darting eyeballs, full of anticipation and decision-making. And I miss that more than I ever could have known. Now, even the act of driving through a parking lot means stopping while people walk slowly, four across in the middle of the drive lane, blissfully unaware there is a car right behind them that can’t get by. That, on a grander scale, has been our experience in Columbus. There is little urgency for task completion if not outright obliviousness of expectation. Returned calls from professionals or physicians can take days, if not weeks. Paperwork is routinely lost and re-submitted. And I can’t put my finger on any of it because it’s not crowded or over-populated here. No one is that busy. Ever.

We don’t miss Chicago. I mean, we miss the food and some friends and family, but we don’t miss living there. We’re going back tomorrow for several days for D’s business trip and that will scratch the itch for a while. We found a sushi restaurant where the language barrier results in delightfully curt interactions with staff which locals probably think is rude, but we love it. In fact, every time we have borderline unfriendly, to-the-point service, we let out a charmed, “awww” after the person walks away.

My backyard someday.

We talk about the desert still, it’s been a constant conversation, but work in the city we’d plan on can be hard to find and because I’m a specialist within a specialty, particularly difficult for me. There are a few things in the works with regards to that which may wind up saving the day, but there are a lot of “ifs” about it as of today. The larger question is, is there anywhere we can go that won’t be as frustrating as Columbus has been? Hard to say. Mitigating factors are comparable cost of living and better weather, which means from now on, we only move south/southwest.

I’m grateful for eight months left on our lease though, and I’m grateful we don’t have to make any decisions today. The adventure continues. But I might be staring down the barrel at my eighth move in seven years.

Covering Bases, Looking Out

Last we spoke, I had just accepted a job for which I felt highly unqualified. They still wanted me for some reason though and against all logic, I accepted. That was in January. I was hired along with a more experienced counterpart and together, we took on the task of rebuilding some external sites for a national retailer and its five brands, simultaneously. It was a tall order and we are frequently frustrated, to tell you the truth. We battle old ways of thinking, fear of change, and lack of true leadership that will lay the hammer down on problem children. I am not yet at the point of throwing my hands up and allowing the frustration to color all my days, I’m still learning and being part of a solution is why they brought us on. But sometimes, you have to look beyond your immediate situation at whatever might be coming at you from the side, front, behind, or beneath. Cover your tush, girl.

“I’m sure these are growing pains”, or “I’m sure this will get better”, are mantras we repeat daily, sometimes hourly, when things seem like they’re going in circles or not at all. At some point, that mantra can shift to a darker, more cynical, “This place sucks”, or “…Typical”, depending on how far you go.

My counterpart, let’s call him A, is more experienced than I am in the mighty ways of UX Architecture, this much has been clear from the beginning. He has the lingo down pat, he seems to know exactly what the next steps are in any situation and moreover, knows precisely how everyone is failing at success and he is not shy to point it out. Being somewhat new in this branch of UX, I cannot help but be impacted by the verbal shrapnel his criticisms fling in all directions. I began to see the company we work for as confused, floundering, barely run effectively, and full of idiots. Except for us, of course.

I did not like feeling this way and began to resent going to the office every day and seeing him sitting there, apparently just waiting for me to show up so he had someone to complain to. I found myself wondering why he’d stay, we’re contractors after all and it’s not like the people who put us in our jobs want someone who is miserable, to stay there. It reflects poorly on their choices of candidates and hinders their abilities to place more people in the future. They’d rather work with the unhappy worker and find them something new than allow them to stay on, potentially poisoning a well.

A month ago or so, after I found myself nodding through gritted teeth at yet another gripe session, I pitched the idea to our boss that we split up and work independently. Not only would it keep stakeholders happy to see us working on their projects at twice the pace, but in theory it would give me a break from this constant complainer, who was beginning to deeply affect how I felt about the employer too. I wasn’t ready to be bitter and resigned, I needed something to work for and take joy in.

My boss agreed and split us up to do work on a project or two each at the same time, and while that worked well for a month or so, it wasn’t long before we were back at the same desks or offices together, every day, complaints flying. Eventually I looked at A and asked if he was job seeking elsewhere. He seemed momentarily startled and glanced over his shoulder to see who might have overheard the question (no one, I made sure before asking).

The floodgates opened. Yes, he said, he had been looking but it turned out that “no one can afford” him and the cost of living in our city, he felt, was too high (it is not, I assured him, I just moved from a city with disproportionate COL:income), so a pay cut isn’t an option.

I began to notice a pattern with A. He talked a very, very good game but mostly, I realized, he’s full of crap. I figure that he has everyone snowed, convinced that he is deeply needed, very important in the UX scene, and knows more than anyone in the room (or anyone he works for). I took a step back and looked at the work he was doing, his bad relationships with our stakeholders, and then saw something I had been too intimidated by his touted experience to see previously: I can do the work he’s doing just as well, if not better, and people like working with me.

This revelation brought about two things. One, a new sense of confidence that I was no longer phoning it in or secretly faking it until I made it, because I was making it, and two, the company doesn’t actually need two people to do this job. We could do it with one UX Architect to work with the stakeholders in discovery and ideation sessions, and one dedicated UI designer to handle the wireframes and prototypes. With that team, maybe we could finally embrace an Agile system instead of waterfall, where we currently hope and pray things fall into place as we go.

On day last week I had lunch with a friend who works at our office and who also happened to work previously with A. I explained to him my frustrations working with A and his constant negativity, and told my friend about an idea I was rolling around: If A left the position like he’s been threatening to do, and they took it down to one Architect, it would save the company money while also eliminating a presence that is becoming increasingly cancerous to the process.

My friend encouraged me to speak to my boss. I told him it felt underhanded and a little sabotage-y but he replied that A is not shy about how unhappy he is, the problems he sees with the company as being unfixable, he comes in late daily, and expresses frequently his frustration with stakeholders through passive aggressive comments and eye rolls. The writing is on the wall for those willing to see it. So after lunch, I went to my boss’s office and said that if, and I don’t know anything for sure or have any concrete evidence, but if A would not renew his contract when it expires in July, that I feel the UX Architecture part of our team could be handled by me and a dedicated UI designer. I explained that having a designer would free me up to work with the stakeholders, which is all they really want, and would push Agile into a potential reality. That’s it. He didn’t ask for more information or proof, he nodded, looked intrigued, and left me with… I would describe it as… an optimistic “alright”.

Was it the right thing to do? Was I throwing my hat into a non-existent ring? Would they take my idea seriously and let me do it myself or would they get a more seasoned Architect in there to co-work? I have no idea. I can say that the company does not excel at stellar financial decision-making and they tend to think spending money is a failsafe against failure. But I know that I have my boss’s support in most anything that I do, and in spite of my own misgivings about the company’s future as a whole, I know that I can do the job and do it well. I will rise to the challenges and forge ahead with the solid and promising stakeholder relationships that I’m building.

I do keep my eye on the job boards, for my contract also expires in July and it would be unwise to presume anything about anything, but it feels better having made what some might consider a “power play” than simply waiting to see what might be around the corner. If nothing else, it has set me apart from my coworker, who only ever seems to be about the complaints where as I want to be part of a solution.

One Door Closes, A Yacht Pulls Up

Grab some coffee, this is a long one.

As some of you may know, I’ve been in UX for a little over two years but had been a team of one except for the three-month contracted gig that just ended. I paused the search for the Christmas/New Years break then applied for UX positions with two international retail brand companies and went on interviews for both. I was contacted by two different recruiters and worked with them through the process.

Company A interviewed me for a straight across the board UX Designer role on an established team, with processes in place and systems to follow. The interview went well and my recruiter thought I’d have an offer that day or early the next day.

Company B interviewed me for what I thought was the same role but after speaking to the Sr., he passed me to his boss, the VP of Digital, and head data analyst. Suddenly, they were speaking to me about a position that didn’t closely resemble what I thought I was there to discuss and when I asked for clarification, they said there were two positions and wondered if I was interested in the other (more of a strategist/architect role, less hands on design). I left confused since it was so far from what I thought I was there for, and called my recruiter immediately to get more information. He was also confused.

It turned out that they felt so strongly about my personality, portfolio offerings, and demeanor, that they began to push hard that I be considered for the strategist/architect role instead, a role they hadn’t made public or informed the recruiters about. No one had ever mentioned such a career track to me previously, I didn’t think it was worth considering given my lack of head down, team-based UX design time, and thought surely company B was delusional and, frankly, wrong. My portfolio is full of wireframes and user flows, which I’ve now come to find out are far less common than finished work featuring mostly UI (particularly user flows, which have always been a strong suit of mine).

Company A’s offer didn’t come same-day and I reached out to the Company B recruiter to ask if I could go back to Company B and further discuss the opportunity, since I truly couldn’t understand why they’d be so interested in me for a created position I didn’t feel at all qualified for. I met with the VP again, got a tour, met some of the team I’d be working with, and we got a chance to have a transparent, honest conversation about my misgivings as well as the other interview I’d had. He was beyond encouraging, said that in speaking with me felt that I was the exact person and personality match they were looking for, and felt they wouldn’t find another person that ticked all the boxes they had in mind for the job. I left that meeting with an unofficial offer, and the official offer came later that day.

My concern is warranted, I’m not blind. I am particularly worried that I’m skipping over potentially years of hands-on experience before walking into a company or two and helping them with theirs. Company B insists I will not be alone, I’ll have all of their support plus a Project Owner counterpart, and since it’s a created position, we can build it as we go.

I accepted the role and let Company A’s recruiter know that if things had been equal, I’d have accepted theirs. There, it would meant real time put in doing the work, solid experience, the safety of tested methods, and after a year or two I’d have likely moved onto another company. I worry that an elevated position such as this, a specialty-within-a-specialty will make it harder to find something comparable when I leave it.

But the hesitation was coming from somewhere beyond the professional voice; it was personal. Not so much impostor syndrome doubts, but more the kind I felt when D pursued me hard and I wondered, “Why me? What does he see in me that is such a big deal?” Followed with a little bit of, “Why do they want someone without all of the experience who would probably do better and not screw things up?” All of the self confidence that I have, I have mustered or worked to see and feel, it does not come naturally to me. When things like this happen, I narrow my eyes and look for the anvil. I’m working through that though, I won’t let it get me.

Ultimately, in spite of my misgivings, I took Company B’s extreme confidence in me into account and chose to take the risk of an unknown quantity (in terms of established processes) rather than go the safe route. An opportunity like this would have taken many more years and a dozen connections in my old city, I felt I couldn’t let it pass. So I have 10 more days of quiet couch, baking, dog, husband, and errand time, then a trip to New Orleans, then I dive into the unknown.

So Long, and Thanks for All the Cake.

It’s my last day doing UX at the bank. My heart actually aches to leave, which is perhaps the strangest sensation I’ve ever experienced at a place of business. Usually it aches to see coworkers still bubbling around restaurants I visit after quitting, or when social media tells me they’re all out together wherever we used to spend time after shifts. In this case though, it’s the sadness of knowing I might never have this same team dynamic, caring director, or encouraging environment again. Me. Missing coworkers in an office. That has never happened, in all my years of working in offices.

I had a phone interview recently that went very well and in spite of a few red flags that popped up as I learned more about the company’s needs, they want me to come in for an on-site interview next week. It is located well east of town, at least a 35 minute drive but likely more in rush hours (which is off-putting, I’ll admit, I’m spoiled with a 15 minute commute now). I have four more resumes out there and no rejections from them yet, so next week may prove to be a busy one for fielding what may come. In spite of red flags, I don’t feel like I can pass up any opportunities. I need all the experience in many fields and ways of working as I can get, after all it’s my lack of experience that’s preventing me from staying at the bank (as far as I know).

If you’re new to UX and are a team of one, my advice to you is to get out and get on a team ASAP. Knowing how to work on a structured team is more important than skills, in a lot of ways.

It’s really an amazing thing, growing up and getting healthy in the head. My work environments have been largely unhealthy. They’ve been either very passive aggressive, non-communicative, had no boundaries and procedure, or had poor leadership. What I’m leaving is the opposite of all of that, and that’s hard to walk away from. I keep thinking about that whole “better to have loved and lost” thing but I’m not so sure. I realize this place is a rarity on all fronts and I just don’t think I’ll find it out there in the world so easily.

That translates also to some of my friendships, now that I have a chance to look at them from a distance. A friend, acquaintance really, was in town last night for a musical gig. I was a maybe for attendance but as I felt the pangs of friendly obligation to support, I also realized that this friend never speaks to me except for the one weekend a year that we see one another. Matching effort for effort, I decided to stay home. I have no idea if that makes me a jerk, but it feels like the right thing to do, in light of how some of my relationships have changed since our move out of state. It’s good to put the best efforts into things that will feed us and that ideal lead me to part ways with the recruiters who found me my first few jobs here in town. Their behavior at times was unprofessional at best and made them liars at worst. The frustration wasn’t worth it and with that in mind, I head back out into the world of job searching with new recruiters and a new list of what to look for, ask, and seek to find.

Wish me luck and happy new year to you.

Intuition When Logic Protests

I was working with a recruiter, I suppose maybe I still might be, who set me up on an interview with a company based here in Columbus for a “UX position”. From our first conversation, my recruiter let me know that the woman doing the interview would also the boss, and she felt it was significant that I’d been granted an interview because the boss lady had tossed out a lot of candidates up to that point.

The experience just getting to the building was a harbinger of sorts. I drove 30 minutes to the industrial park the office was supposedly located in. My GPS guided me to a parking lot with huge buildings, all showing the wrong street numbers from what I should have seen. I reset the GPS to the same result, I was in the general area but no streets showed, just gray blobs denoting parking lots. I took a chance and went into one of the doors and was directed to a different building around back. It seemed correct but there were no street signs and no address numbers so I took a chance and went in, luckily I was early and it was correct.

Our interview went well, we went through my portfolio and she told me about the position. The more she described it however, the more red flags began to pop up. She required one program be used, the program she uses, which I am not proficient in. The work was already done, she said, and just needed to be set up into the required prototyping program*. I waited for the keywords of typical UX to cross the table but they never came. Among the descriptions and basic timeline of work, she let me know in not terribly subtle ways that she was not happy with the company. The creative department is housed under marketing, which is a terrible idea, she was alone in the position and her help had just quit. She would hire two of the five contractors she planned to bring in, and the contract would be for two months with an offer coming shortly after. She spends much more time than anyone should, creating almost complete prototypes of her designs to give to her developers, because three out of the four were bad and needed that much hand-holding to produce accurate work (this revelation housed like, four red flags all on its own). Her calender was 80% full two months out, she had no more time to do the work herself and needed help, yesterday. By the time our conversation was over, we’d connected on a few items but mostly I had a stack of questions and warnings about her working style and the company both. In spite of that, as I drove away I felt an offer would be coming that day.

When I returned home, I sent an email to my recruiter to let her know of my concerns, which were plenty. I let her know that the required program wasn’t listed anywhere in the job description (and had it been, I’d have bowed out before wasting anyone’s time), that without any additional design help, we’d be a team of two so she likely would have deep expectations about that software straight away which could spell disaster, and above all, the impression she gave of the company simply was not good and she didn’t really hold back letting me know that. I’d had a bad feeling about the position from the very first mention of it, and that feeling only grew after learning more. I told my recruiter that I wanted to keep looking. She called me within five minutes of receiving the email to let me know an offer had been extended.

She assured me that the woman was excellent to work with, she treats her coworkers like rock stars and I would get all kinds of credit for helping to build the team. The permanent hire offer and salary which would likely come after two months was staggering and I briefly figured I could put up with anything at that point, and while she admitted that the expectations for using one program was a blindside, she encouraged me to give it a day and remember that the contract itself was only for two months so if I wanted to leave then, I could without harm or foul. That caveat along with some thoughts and advice from trusted people, I decided the next day to accept the offer.

Two mornings later, I realized I’d been carrying around a heavy ick. I was supposed to finish some paperwork and take a drug test but something told me to postpone it, so I did. After much thought and an unexpected call from a hiring manager at another company I applied to wherein our brief talk the fit seemed legions better, I realized I needed to trust my gut and pass on the job I’d been offered. Those two months of trial simply carried no real weight. As soon as I had that thought, my shoulders lifted and I felt better than I had since even before the interview. I talked to D about changing my mind, that we wouldn’t have a guaranteed additional income soon after all, and that I needed to continue the search. He gave me his full support.

I called my recruiter and told her I was having serious reservations about the position (which mind you, I’d already said a few times and a few ways), that ultimately I was going to have to pass on it, and that I was sorry for the waste of time. She got pissy with me almost immediately. Her tone changed and she asked if I would still be needing her services, and if I’d been speaking to other recruiters. I assured her this was a clear headed decision and I’d like to still work with her going forward but that I had intended to keep looking on my own as well. Her goodbye was barely that before she hung up. I figured there’s a good chance that’s the last time I’d hear from her, and while I was indeed sad to possibly break that connection, I had to remind myself that she deflected or attempted to change every reservation and red flag I mentioned to her. Aside from some other issues like poor communication and blowing up my phone several times a day rather than calling or texting me, I had to face the fact that she is perhaps early in her career and doesn’t yet know that as a recruiter, the person she’s placing has to be a good and right fit or it’s bad for everyone. She took it personally rather than professionally, and that is a shame.

Nothing about this decision was rational. The money was there and would have been great. It could have lead to many other opportunities if my recruiter is to believed, by having this company on my resume. It would have meant a likely offer in two months unless something went seriously sideways, and more money than I’d ever seen in my working life.

But it was wrong, everything about it felt wrong. It was a bad scenario and two months with a built-in out or not, the moment I decided not to take it, I knew that was the right decision. I know something will come soon, I reached out to four more recruiters after we hung up and corresponded with two of them. An opportunity is out there, a better fit, and the lesson in all this is to never try to out-think intuition because it will always win, one way or the other.

*general school of thought for UX notes that whatever tool gets the job done, is ok to use. As soon as a company specifies exactly which tool needs to be used, it becomes a question of micro-management, licensing, accessibility, or a sturdy refusal to let the designer use what works best for them. In the case of this position, the program is a hearty but outdated prototyping program. It’s great for a lot of things, but to be proficient in it would definitely require a heads up in the job description, since many designers are proficient in newer, updated programs.

It’s Happening, I’m doing UX Design!

You read that right! I’m in it!

After I arrived in Columbus and it became clear my freelance situation wasn’t working out as planned, I sent a few emails out to creative recruitment companies; a lazy lure with a crude hook, just to see who’d bite.

TEK Systems, as it happens, did. I was contacted by a recruiter who asked to meet me for coffee rather than the usual trek into the office to shake hands of people I’d never see again, explain exactly everything that’s already on my resume and in my letter of intent, and be told they’d get to me when they could. I’d been through that song and dance before, in the rain, on a 45 minute round trip commute downtown, across from an eager but entirely replaceable and temporary recent college grad. I had little hope for TEK but they seemed to meet me where I was and I thought perhaps that may be a good sign. I began to keep score.

We picked a Starbucks closer to my house than her office (+1) and chatted about where I’d been, what I’d been doing, and what I hoped to do. She was clear to say that they understood the needs of the agencies and companies they worked with, and wouldn’t put me up for a job they couldn’t explain to me or anyone who asked. Unfortunately, placement companies creative or not, have a reputation for putting butts in seats and not much else, so this gave me some comfort (+2). As we parted, she said she had a few ideas and would be in touch.

The following week, she contacted me about a basic design position doing logos and email design, for which I am at this point frankly, way overqualified. I wasn’t so desperate that I’d be willing to take a job that would likely bore me, so I passed and asked her to keep looking. A few days later, she approached me with a position at an agency on the edge of downtown Columbus in a renovated warehouse, doing proper UX. I didn’t hesitate before agreeing. A few days later, she let me know they liked my resume and book, and were interested to meet me (+3). A few more days later, after they got the numbers and dates worked out, I drove 20 minutes towards downtown and met my recruiter’s boss at the door to the agency building and we went upstairs to meet the Creative Director I’d be working with, the Direct or Ops, and the owner of the company and site for which the UX was being done. The meeting was over in 10 minutes, and simply involved chatting and project outlining, and I’d start on Monday (+10).

I’m at the end of my fourth day on site and I love it. It’s everything I thought it would be, and not just in terms of the office environment, which is very cool and welcoming. I get to collaborate and renovate, there’s room for all conversation and edits, and they aren’t so bent on producing the site right away that they won’t take the time to do it right (+347).

******

I had to walk away from the draft and it is now day #5 on site. I lost yesterday (Monday) to a cluster headache, which I’d never had before and hope never happens again. Fortunately, both of my contracted companies were fantastic about it and completely understanding (again, new to me).

A few days ago, I drove to New York to spend the weekend camping with friends and about halfway there, got a few emails from the copywriter assigned to the project. I responded with the PDF of the work I’d completed the day before and mentally checked out of work. Today however, I arrived to find her updated copy corresponding to the wrong page of the PDF and unable to make more changes this week. My main contact isn’t in (at all or yet, I’m not sure), and the second person I’ve only sort of worked with on the project emailed to say he’d get with me later today to write new copy for the updated work. So here I sit, for the foreseeable next few hours, with nothing to do. I’m being paid to do nothing, which I can’t stand, but I have no choice. The downside of contact work is that I have only one job to do, and if I can’t do that job, I have to sit here sucking time and money out of the parent company.

In the meantime, my recruiter contacted me to see if we could meet for a drink next week to catch up about the position and how I felt it went. By then I’m sure I will have a fully formed opinion but as of today, I can say that I wish communication was better at the agency for which I’m working. But still, regardless of that bit of frustration, there’s nowhere I’d rather be (except maybe home, also working). I’m getting my hands dirty, the collaboration has been valuable and worthwhile, and I’m learning more in the last week than I tried to teach myself during the previous year in my attempts to break into the field. This is what the kids these days call, “winning””.

Careful of Those Wishes

For the better part of my working life, I wished to not be working. Don’t read me wrong, I’m not a layabout (except when I am, which is sometimes because I friggin’ love naps). I need purpose and action, it’s hard for me to do nothing for too long…which is kind of where I’m at right now. I hesitate to complain, working at home and freedom throughout the day is usually exactly what’s at the finish line of my brain. However, I don’t have much freelance work to do and the whole reason for being home all day, was to do freelance work.

Last week I clocked I think 18 working hours. I won’t get into pay or anything like that, let’s say that was alright, but it didn’t keep me busy for more than three days out of five. The other two were taken up with unpacking, collapsing boxes, arranging and rearranging the kitchen, running errands, etc. Again: I’m not complaining about that bit because I loved being able to run around during the day when most people were not on the roads or in the stores and make real headway getting the new place in order. That’s not really the point, though.

I need to feel like I have something going on that isn’t housework, since housework needs to always happen, particularly after a move. It feels good to get my hands dirty with design work. I throw my earphones in, put a playlist on, and have at it. Hours go by, I don’t even realize that it’s quitting time until either my stomach or my butt tells me so and I like it. Love it, maybe. But right now, the well is if not dry, at least so deep I can barely see the water in it and my boss goes radio silent sometimes for days at a time. Our agreement before I left my job was that he’d give me x amount of hours per week to a) keep me working on whatever they (urgently, according to him) need and b) make not working freelance financially viable for the summer. After much discussion, we decided against paying for insurance for the handful of months I’d be freelancing, and pray for health and safety (thanks, America!), but we still have to pay rent and bills. Our handshake was that I’d stay on doing freelance through the summer and not start seriously job shopping until fall, which would ostensibly help both of us during the transition. As of today, Thursday, I’ve done three hours of work this week. I sent my boss a chat an hour ago asking for more work and after a basic response of, “I’m sorry/I’m really busy/I’m working on it” finally gave me the option of working on a project he allotted 12 hours’ pay to. Uh, yes. Hello, yes. Why did I have to pull that out of him?

So now the question is: Do I stick the freelancing out through August as planned, or do I gear up for the harder conversation that may or may not involve a professional boundary of something like, more work by July or I find a real job. A risky move, but not as risky as working less than the agreed-upon hours per week, indeed.

It makes me cranky to be bored or aimless and while there are other hobby-type things I could/should be doing, or geez, even sit in the sun and read a book or wander around Target noting the things we still need to set up house, that’s not what I want. I want to work. If I don’t work, I don’t enjoy my leisure time because I haven’t earned it.

Boxes, Markers, and Stepping on Fred

This week has been long, this is an earned Friday. Tuesday was my last day of work at the office, Wednesday I was in an inexplicable funk but managed to get some errands run between naps (my escapist drug of choice), and yesterday marked the first day of Full On Packing. Today, my plan is to pack at least half of one very crowded room and not leave the house until we go to dinner tonight to the Thai restaurant which was the site of our first date.

Dylan, champ that he is, worked hard enough all week to hit his 80 hours early so he could take today off to run errands for himself and for us. Reminding myself that I’m not in this move alone, well, for the third time in our history, is a constant companion. A little string around my finger that I glance at when I’m suddenly overwhelmed at the pile of boxes and seemingly endless amount of tiny things that can’t be thrown away but appear to have no actual home. Last night I asked him the best favor to which he replied, “That’s it? Of course!” and that is: Clean out the fridge. I can manage a lot but cleaning out the fridge makes me nuts, I don’t know why. Knowing I have a willing partner that will carry a load for me when asked is, to put it mildly, a relief. Literally lately too, since I strained my back during our yard sale prep of last weekend.

We’ve seen our friends to say goodbye, most of them anyway, we’ve eaten our foods, we’ve said our silent see ya later to various buildings and neighborhoods as we drive around town. It’s all gone by so fast but it feels like we’re careening towards something amazing. While I’m rarely unhappy these days, I’m rarely at peace. My mind runs, it goes through lists with items checked and unchecked, I wake up at 3:30 am and wonder if Fred was taken out after I fell asleep while we watched TV, I finally get up an hour later and take some Benadryl or read to force myself back to slumber and while that usually works, I’m awake before 7 most mornings where the brain fires up all over again. 

Our new home though, that feels like peace. We haven’t even set foot in yet or experienced it with our own eyes, just a walk-through via Skype and good friends. But it feels like ours already and I know we both decorate and organize it in our minds, only occasionally discussing our ideas. Woodburning fireplace, chest freezer, our shared office setup,  all the mall stores nearby we can wander around when bored or curious. We don’t know much about Columbus yet, and the mystery is part of the allure. Cleveland I knew, at least I knew people and a lot of things about it, but Columbus I only really know through our friends’ eyes, there is so much to discover. And all those trees and hills! And cheaper! And like, 60% less people everywhere!

But today, right now, it’s 10:24 in the morning and I have yet to do much but put a load of wash in the dryer. So I’m going to get up and attempt to tackle the kitchen, starting with a small box for the spices. In all this fast, drastic change, starting small seems like a good way to quiet the chatter parade in my head.

Goodbyes to Good Pizza

I remember when I was getting ready to move to Cleveland six years ago. It seemed that people who I never saw or made the effort to see (or see me) had the strongest reactions. “You’re going?! Really? Awww! (sad face)” and I thought… yeah. I’m going. Did you want to make plans after lo these four years of living in the same city but never spending intentional time together…? I felt like a face in their own personal Sgt. Pepper and suddenly having a blank spot where I was, would mess up the whole composition. There were also times I’d run into people I so rarely saw that it seemed the universe was conspiring to make sure I said goodbye to them, particularly in places I’d either never been before or meant to go or accidentally wound up in, which was pretty cool. And then there were the friends who just kind of vanished altogether. They didn’t attend any going away events or even send goodbye texts. I wondered why, if we were really friends at all or if I was being too sensitive to the very normal thing of transience in life. Now I know they simply just weren’t good friends. My good friends helped me through that entire situation. Packing, loading, little gifts, even driving with me to Ohio and making sure I had a soft landing there.

Now I’m watching that whole thing play out again through D’s experience, and it’s a little hard to witness. Simply put, he’s so far disappointed by the silence of friends he’s had his whole life. Granted, we have almost a month before we head out and so much can happen before then, but right now he’s struggling the same way I did. A stoic and resigned shrug that indicates he doesn’t care if they show up to this or that, but sad eyes that reveal his heart if you look closely enough.

I submitted my resignation today, which felt so good. My boss has asked me to stay on as freelance for design needs, and we’ll need to hammer out exactly what that means and how many hours of work he may need per week, but he also offered a letter of recommendation (without me asking) because he’s smart enough to know that I will eventually want something local and more (without me saying).

Not being much of a daydreamer or fantasizer anymore, I haven’t spent a lot of time on my back staring up at the sky, imagining wall color or furniture placement. That is, until we were approved for our lease, booked our truck, and started collecting boxes. Now it’s happening, now that the wheels are in motion. Now I find myself cruising Amazon for firewood holders (because we’ll have a wood burning fireplace), and wondering which bathroom (of the 2.5) should have the Hahn and Leia towels in it, and if we should decorate around them as a theme.

Goodbye events are starting to be planned, dinners and lunches scheduled, and most importantly maybe, time blocked for packing. It always comes down to the last second and I always forget that part until I’m well in it. Fortunately this time I have a very helpful husband who won’t let me take so much on myself, as I do, and who supports my desire to throw money at the problem by hiring muscle either with money or pizza, to pack and unpack the truck.

It all feels slightly dreamlike still, it’s far enough away that the pressure isn’t quite on yet, but there is a small stack of large, sturdy boxes leaned against a wall just waiting. Taunting. Promising. Tempting. After mid-May and we participate in a neighborhood yard sale, the house will be emptier as I mentally and emotionally prepared to sell the kitchen table I inherited from my grandmother. The 1963 chrome and Formica table I grew up making Christmas cookies at and eating spiral Kraft mac & cheese on. I’ve kept it with me through five apartments, two states, and two storage spaces, and now it sits against a wall where it supports plants, a computer monitor, mail, and the cage of our Leopard Gecko, Stavros. It’s a great table and I’m sad to part with it. Fortunately, the story is not so sad because in our new home, will be another table also inherited from my other grandmother. It’s beautiful wood, mid-century and has rapidly become a cherished piece I now get to attach to the way I attached to the other.

 

 

 

 

Moving Right Along (footloose and fancy free)

A decision has been made: We’re moving to Columbus.

How did we get to this point? Allow me to back up. About three weeks ago, D and I drove to Columbus to visit two very good friends. J and N married three years ago, I know J from high school and N went to high school with us too but I don’t remember him (he remembers me, always awkward). She and I were very great friends and ate lunch together for two years, stayed in a bit of touch but didn’t really reconnect until she moved back to Chicago about six years ago. She flew to Cleveland five years ago to pack me up and drive back to Chicago with me, and from then our adult friendship was sealed. She was I think, my first actual close adult friend.

They moved to Columbus two years ago for her job, set up house, and have loved it since. We visited once in August and once three weeks ago and by the time we drove home, we asked each other, “Could we live there…?” and D being his amazing self said right away, “I’d follow you anywhere” which while sweet is factual because his job is remote so he literally can follow me anywhere. Still, aww.

D unfortunately had the flu the whole time we were there, eventually passed it to me, and here we are three weeks later still coughing and feeling the affects. The flu is no joke… I used to think that flu shots were stupid but now I can say: the flu is stupider. We weren’t able to explore quite as much as we both wanted to because of his illness, but that leaves more to discover in five weeks.

Forward two weeks of sleep and drugs, and lots of research later: We found an apartment online that J & N were gracious enough to walk through and Skype us, we submitted our paperwork for it later that day, and now just have to pay the processing fee. After that, we can move into it anytime after May 15th. Because the calendar is full and there’s so much going on the month of May, we’re likely not going until May 30th but the truck has been secured! There is also the question of work. My boss asked me to give him until the end of this week to let me know if they can keep me on and how, and if they can’t, I have to find something as soon as I get to Columbus. There will be relief if that’s how it goes, I’ve been unhappy for a while, but it’s better to have a job in this situation than not and I’m fortunate that they aren’t the sort to fire me on the spot just for leaving.

This all feels right. It’s time to leave Chicago and has been time for quite a while. We will miss our friends (and food and drink) so much, but the pull to a new place is greater than the missing. My family while 30 miles west, has never visited us in the almost two years since the wedding, and D’s family is spread across the eastern part of the country; we will miss family the way we always do but I don’t anticipate much changing there nor do I anticipate a visit from my own. In fact, we’ll be only an hour away from his younger sister and her family, so we’ll be on the circuit. And while we’ll be about six hours away from friends near Chicago, we’ll be six hours closer to friends on the east coast and only two hours south of my beloved Cleveland.

I remember the things I experienced when I arrived in Cleveland that were so different than life in Chicago: strangers say hello and smile as they pass one another, crowds are never actually crowds the way they are in Chicago and time to prepare for those crowds is mostly unnecessary (it took me about five events to stop arriving half an hour early to get standing or parking space because there’s always space), how very white the Ohio population is, how spread out everything feels and that a car is a necessity, and generally just how slow things can seem. My shoulders released their tension within months, I wasn’t so wound tight or in a rush, and mostly I didn’t feel a complete and total cynicism about my new city or its government. People in Chicago don’t realize how pervasive that feeling is, the sense you’re being swindled and what it truly costs for the honor of having a Chicago zip code.

What we get for our rent in Columbus will be staggering:  Two beds/two and a half baths, a patio for grilling, two floors, an attached garage, more storage than you can shake 50 sticks at, washer & dryer in-unit upstairs (brilliant), a wood-burning fireplace, a huge guest bedroom/office for Dylan to work in, and the complex has a gym, pool, firepits, a clubhouse (I never know what those are for besides baby showers or sports watching), and a dog run. The square footage is something like 1300 feet in our unit and our back door faces a wooded lot.

Now compare that to our current place on the north side of Chicago: no storage but three small closets (we rent a storage space downtown), one bedroom and one bathroom, a small kitchen with few cabinets and one skinny drawer (honestly one. One drawer that’s about 8″ wide), very little grass, street parking (a spot is $150 a month), 650 square feet and… $200 more than what we’ll be paying in Columbus. Granted, there’s in-unit washer & dryer, central air & heat, and a dishwasher, but that’s not that hard to come by anymore.

I have friends who are bound and determined to stay in Chicago, they even feel like they will be able to afford to buy homes here eventually, and they can’t comprehend why anyone leaves. To them I say: Make your choice. Between the ability to say you live in Chicago and have all it offers a few blocks in all directions (even more to the east because everyone has to keep going further out to afford anything), let alone the ones who want to have kids at some point, and the ability to have so much more for your money, make your choice. The stress of knowing our income has to increase every single year to keep up with rising city costs just isn’t enough to keep us.

Ohio is the first of what I imagine will be many places we’ll settle. We want to live somewhere warm and maybe even tropical, somewhere across an ocean, and even maybe one day on the road. We have all sorts of plans and dreams for ourselves, our little family of just D, me, and Fred the dog. And for now, those dreams begin in Columbus, Ohio somewhere around May 30th.