My Vista Life

Paolino: our lives are like a Windows program
Matt: So your life isn't like any particular Windows program?
Faye: I mean, maybe Vista. It sucks and really isn't different than it was before.
Matt: It's prettier and slower?
Faye: Yeah, actually

The Less I Do

I went from a job where I spent my time covertly reading blogs and the NY Times online while having absolutely nothing to do to a job where I sit openly reading books and the NY Times online where I still have nothing to do. I'm not sure how to make clear to people that I'm completely serious when I say that I prefer to be busy. I've spent my entire life having lots to do; books to read and write about, papers to compose, problems to solve, presentations to create, prepare, practice and present, etc. Now, after working so hard to be the best in all of those pursuits I spend my time doing precisely...nothing.

"It must be so nice to have the time to read so many books," my coworkers (mostly the attorneys) say when they see me on my breaks. I try to smile and say that it is rather nice to be able to just read at my leisure. Truthfully, however, I don't enjoy it. I've always found at least a little time to read books for pleasure, even if it was just for 10 minutes before falling asleep. I've never felt as though this is something that I'm missing out on, but I am repeatedly told that I should "enjoy it while I can." I try, mind you, to see this as a positive, it's just not that easy.

When I took this job I had made it (or so I thought) abundantly clear that I need to be kept busy. When the job was described to me I said, "I can do that, but I really do need to be busy. I can't stand having nothing to do. I abhor simply sitting around. I feel like I'm wasting my time." I was assured, neigh, promised that the firm would have "no problem" keeping me busy. So I agreed to come work for them.

My first day in I had "training" in the morning that consisted of a whacked out, confused, forgetful woman asking me whether I knew how to use: Outlook, Word, Excel, PowerPoint, internet. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes and, but of course. I was then shown where the lunch room and the ladies room were. Finally I was plopped at the front desk with a different smiling woman next to me. The phone rang, I was instructed to answer it, I did, transferred the call, and was congratulated. "Looks like you've got this," said the smiling woman as she got up and left me. That was it. I was never introduced to anyone. I was never shown the upper floor of our firm (except the lunch room). I was expected to simply know everyone right off the bat. When I walked in at 8:30am on my second day of work I was greeted with, "You're late" (I'm not on the clock until 8:30, but fuck, apparently at 8:30 I'm late). People then quickly became annoyed when I didn't know who they were/where they were supposed to be/what they were supposed to be doing/where the person they were looking for was/what time they came in last Friday/etc. I went home that night and cried. I didn't think I'd make it.

Lo and behold I've been toughing it out, but for what? Slowly I began learning who people were. I still didn't know my way around, but I could get coffee/tea, fill up my water bottle, find the bathroom, and find where to eat my lunch. A week or so in the firm gained about 10 new attorneys. So just as I'd started to recognize the people who were already here I had to learn a bunch more people who came to me with just about every question under the sun. Of course, I couldn't answer any of them.

A week or so later I was told that I'd be getting trained to open clients and matters. "Oh thank god," I thought! It was at least another week until that actually happened. Then I finished it faster than they thought I would. One of the attorneys gave me a simple survey project that she seemed to assume would take me all day. 15 minutes later I was done. At least 5 of the senior attorneys have said that they'll be looking to give me work, advocate on my behalf to get me work, send me something, even a little something, to work on, etc.

I'm in month 3 and I've lost count of how many books I've read. I still have not gotten to wander around the office and figure out where people are located. I wake up in the mornings (at 6 am) and simply cannot get myself motivated to come into the office and sit around doing nothing for 8 hours. By the end of the day I feel like I'm wiped out and I've done absolutely nothing. I have no motivation to do anything. I just want to sleep. I'm bored. I'm horribly bored. I'm 22 years old and dying to work. I've been working towards this my whole life and now I'm stagnant. I don't know if it's the workforce in general or just this office (and the last one I was in, apparently). The assistants I have lunch with are older and thinking about retirement. Many of them begin sentences with, "When I was young this wouldn't be a problem, but now..." May I point out that I am young? I WANT TO WORK.

Now I just have to wait and see how long I'm going to last...

Terrified

It's really the only way to describe it. What have I gotten myself into? When I really sit down and look at the life I'm choosing for myself, I begin to feel horribly apprehensive; scared that I won't be happy. I have two (or more) competing desires: I want to be successful, make loads of cash in order to live comfortably and travel and I want to get married and have one or two adorable children (because ugly children simply won't do). B has helpfully offered to quit her job and come raise my children and when the conversation turns to the best way to potty train I am thankful that I'll have an office with grown-ups to retreat to. But then I hang out with kids and get my cuddles and hugs and I just want to spend all my time with them, watching them discover their world.

The other thing that terrifies me is choosing the wrong profession. Ok, so yes, I will likely make an excellent attorney. But what if I don't like it? What if I dread the work I have to do everyday? What happens when the alarms goes off at 5:45 and I'm rushing to get to the office by 7:30 so I can set up my 8am conference call that will drag on through the time when my lunch meeting is supposed to begin which will then cut into my afternoon calls making me late? I'll end up coming home, exhausted, with stacks of papers I need to read through before my morning meeting with the senior partners the next day. The kids will already have eaten their dinner and had their baths, probably even be in bed. I'll have to sneak in and give them little kisses, slipping into bed beside them for a few minutes, hoping that I can get my work done in a reasonable amount of time so that I can enjoy some of the "pleasures" of marriage.

Can you tell I'm a worrier?

A nanny is clearly going to be a big part of my life; but what about the guilt that will inevitably fill me everyday when she shows up and dresses them for school, making sure they have their homework and walking them to the bus stop whilst I rush off. I won't have enough seniority anywhere I work to make my own schedule (i.e. three or four days a week with the rest working from home so I can go to the park with my kids). College tuition will be a nightmare and if I want to send the kids to private school....well, let's just say that hubby and I will both need to pull in 6 figures.

Thusly, I'm terrified. All of this has been building up since I sent in my law school applications. Now I sit and wait to hear their final decisions (gut feeling: I'll be rejected by all). Some days it all feels rather heavy. I think I'll eat my chocolate scone now...

Comfort and Contentment

B recently enjoyed a vacation near Ft. Lauderdale, FL. It was planned for a month and I knew that she was looking forward to it, not only because nearly everyone looks forward to some time off, but because she will be moving down to FL in a few month's time and this would provide an opportunity to scope it out. The move has her apprehensive, a little nervous. As of now she has nowhere to live and no job lined up. I believe these things will come easily for her and the move will do her good.

So I was not surprised when she told me that she had an anxiety attack when coming back to PA. For the short time that I've known her I've encouraged her to leave and she's expressed the desire to do just that. "This place is toxic for me," she told me last night. It's not that she's unhappy, it's just that this isn't where she needs to be. Apparently this concept is not understood by all. Some people seem to feel that if you are unhappy with where you are then you are unhappy in general. I can't conform to this notion. I was unhappy this time a year ago, not necessarily with life, but with where I was. Then I spent 2 months in Italy. Instant happiness. I wasn't happy when I was living at home in high school, so I moved when I got to college...again, happiness, even though I still lived only 15 minutes from home. This unhappiness related to locale, I reminded B, is one of the reasons people move. She laughed, acknowledging my spot-on assessment.

Selfishly I don't want her to go. I may only see her a few times a month (we try to get together more often, but our schedules often conflict), but I love knowing that if I'm having a particularly terrible day and just need a hug I can call her and she'll be there in a matter of minutes. When she moves to FL I'd have to hop a plane for that pleasure. I also know that in the next 5 years our lives will change dramatically. I have no doubt that with the start of our careers, possible marriages and children we would have been seeing each for less frequently, but I still want to hold on to it for now.

This is true of all my good friends. In the past few months we've gone from being a group of single gals to watching each other get into some highly involved couplings. Mo is back on with someone I think we were all convinced was more of a fling, but they're holding steady and happy. Maddie and her beau are still going strong, with the unfortunate side effect of me not seeing her as often (the acquisition of full time jobs has also not helped). Of course I too am guilty of the pairing off. True, it's technically been the same person for over 2 years now, but it's a bit different as of late. I'm even more giddy in my pleasure than I was before and I simply cannot hide it. I look at myself and my close girlfriends and a little nostalgic sadness bubbles up and I hope that we'll be able to get together for play dates with our children and girl's dinners, maybe even spa dates...

Straddling these phases in life is exciting and nerve-wracking. The changes that we will make in the near future will be tremendous. I have all the most optimistic hopes for my future as well as my friends', but I want to hold on to my girls for as long as can now, while we don't have babies strapped to our chests and husbands to attend to. That said, I've never felt more comfortable or content. If all of life can remain this pleasant then I shall be a happy woman...

The Seinfeld of Posts

Words have not been coming easily in the past few weeks. It's not that nothing is happening or that I'm losing my mind, but rather that the creative juices seem to have run dry. This is the [unexpected] side effect of a medication I recently decided to start taking. I have consistent, low-grade depression. Nothing that really interferes with my every day life. In fact, I've been quite successful with both school and work as well as friendships and, it seems, romantic relationships. I have a fantastic roof over my head, plenty of food to eat, great friends, a bright future, a supportive family, a wonderful man, so what exactly do I have to be so morose about?

It's a generational problem. So many of my friends are either medicated or have thought seriously about it. There is a lack of happiness. Sure, we're content enough, I suppose, but the happiness just isn't there. I refused medication for a long time. It was first suggested to me back in high school. I was extremely apprehensive because I didn't know what the long term effects would be, wasn't sure of the short term effects, and wasn't convinced it was the answer. I felt like there had to be a more organic way of going about my mood elevation. And for years I did a variety of things that worked, somewhat.

This past winter, however, I got tired of myself. Though I do not consider myself a pessimist I was undoubtedly negative. My stress levels sky-rocket with the slightest frustrations and hiccups. I was anxious and simply unhappy. So medication it was. They warned me that I might experience weight gain (which I'm still afraid of and feel like has started to happen. Time to diet), a loss of interest in sex (certainly not thinking about it as frequently as I was, but when I'm with my man I still want it as much as ever), dizziness, etc. What I wasn't warned about, but talked about as my biggest fear going into the whole thing, was the loss of the ability to write.

I'm mellow now whereas before I was a bit snarky, sarcastic, witty even. Now I can still pull some of that off, especially over a glass of wine at dinner, but it simply isn't here on paper. I do miss it, but I sort of like mellow Faye. Though I have two law school applications to get in this weekend I feel oddly calm. Though I got my LSAT scores back and they're terrible I feel calm. The only thing I freaked out about recently was my new job. The first couple of days here were rough because I knew no one and sat by myself all day. But now I have lunch friends and people come to talk with me. So, again, I feel calm. In fact, I'm making a concerted effort to put pen to paper (or cursor to screen as it is in reality) once again and see what kind of prose this mellow Faye comes out with.

Of course, should it all be crap I think I may have to throw the meds in the trash. Long live art and creativity.

Things Fall Into Place

I arrived at my current job through a series of less than perfect circumstances. It all started when I realized that my bank account was taking major hits while I was in Italy. I'd go online to check the damage in my checking account and find myself sending a desperate SOS email to my mother begging for more funds. This weak dollar is a killer if you want to go play in Europe.

When I arrived home from Italy I had about $30 to my name. I'd blown through my meager savings (an account I'd opened when I was 12 and had tried to put some money into over the years, but which had never accrued more than $1100...which seemed like a lot until I actually started spending money), had no income of which to speak, and still had to finish one class at university. This class took place Tuesday through Thursday from 8:40 until after noon. As you can imagine, this kept me from taking on the type of job that would truly help pad the ol' bank account as I would have to work part time and it seemed that there were no engaging part time positions available.

I'd posted my resume on three different job websites with little luck. I started leafing through the classified sections every day after coming home from class while the whole afternoon and evening stretched interminably in front of me. I hated having so much free time on my hands. I felt lazy and unproductive. Thank god I had Maddie to keep me company. She was also gainfully unemployed at the time and we spent some time perusing shops (interesting side note: perusing is a word of contradictory definitions. It means both a) to examine or consider with attention and in detail and b) to look over or through in a casual or cursory manner...Anyways, I find the English language interesting), talking for listless hours on the phone, etc.

I came across the ad for my current position in the newspaper and emailed my resume over. I received an email back and set up an interview. The interview went well and they were willing to be quite flexible with my hours both during the period I'd be taking my class and after (I was pretty much in charge of creating my own schedule within some very loose guidelines). Everyone seemed nice enough and I was thrilled to just be making some money (and have something to do during my down hours).

My class ended and business seemed to slow down more and more with every passing month. The slower it got the more insufferable it became to just be here. I started loosing my mind a bit when all the talk of doom and gloom hit it's stride at a fevered pitch. I was done. I'd given myself 6 months and it has been 6 months. I started actively looking for a new job in late November/early December, but, again, my searches and resumés kept turning up nothing, or at least nothing promising. LSATs started to loom and my personal life was hitting the rocks (again). It truly felt like things were just not going to be going my way any time soon.

The New Year came and went and still I was in the same rut. I picked up on some very familiar patterns in my personal life after feeling that at least some decision had been made, though not what I wanted (this familiar pattern started up again much to the chagrin of all my supporters, though I know they'll support me no matter what I decide to do, just as I do for them. That's what you do when you love someone). To top it off, my job search was still turning up nothing. Finally my dad gave me a little lead and suddenly it was as though the skies opened, the clouds parted and a bit of sunshine found it's way to me.

In the span of just a couple of days I'd set up back to back interviews with two rather promising companies, had LSATs still looming but D-Day was near enough that I could see life after logic games, and some interesting things started happening on the personal front. My first interview went OK, though it certainly wasn't the best I'd ever had. I felt unprepared and I think it showed. The question that always gets me is, "So, do you have any questions for me?" This is typically asked after they've explained everything I would need/want to know: what duties the position entails, any type of training (aka grace period for my learning curve), salary, benefits, work environment, company atmosphere (casual? highly professional?), with whom I would be working directly, hours, room for advancement, vacation time, holidays, etc. So I just smiled and told the interviewer that he had done an excellent job at anticipating any questions I might have.

The second interview, the next day, was less like an interview and more like a run down of what I would most definitely be doing. It seemed a given that I was getting this job; partly (or mostly) I believe because of my father. Finally I was able to really use that connection! So I got the run down on everything, in more detail than I was able to process in such a short amount of time, and was told that I would be given a call either the next day (Friday) or Monday. I stopped in to say hello to a few people who knew me (as a child, mind you...I've changed a bit since then) and then left. They called me that night and made the offer. Of course I accepted and immediately sent my current boss my two week notice. My last day is Valentine's Day. I couldn't have asked for a better present.

LSATs were, as I suppose all admissions exams are, terrible. I felt completely unprepared. Who cares if I studied for hours. I did atrociously on a practice exam the night before which left me in tears. I was shaking when I woke up the next morning after a fitfull night's sleep. I ate breakfast while doing more and more practice problems. My dad's confidence in me as I left that morning made my eyes well up with tears yet again. I royally screwed up the first section thanks to my uncontrollable nerves. I kicked myself (probably extremely obviously) when that first 35 minutes was up. I knew this sh*t and I still screwed it up. I tried my best on the rest (I'm still horribly worried that "my best" is simply not good enough. 3 weeks 'til scores are available. I think I might have a heart attack), trying not to think too much about the score and more about just focusing on the particular problem at hand.

When all was said and done I was still shaking and took my sweet time getting over to Mo and B's. When I finally did get there I'd come to the conclusion that I was not fit to drive or to be in public. I was a mess. A look in the mirror confirmed this. I looked like I'd been on a crazy binge for a week straight. My eyes were red and puffy (thanks crying!), my skin had broken out in some extremely unattractive ways (I had a huge, red, under-the-skin, painful-type pimple in the middle of my forhead, right between my eyebrows, another above my lip, another on my chin...oh it was awful), my color was palid, my body language utterly defeated. I started crying while talking about the exam to Mo who quickly pulled me off the floor and offered me some relief, valiently attempting to take my mind off the exam and on to lighter, less consequential topics. Thank god for friends. Later on, once B got home from work (poor love had to work on a Saturday) we popped the champagne, added some fresh strawberries and blackberries to the mix and had a grand old time.

The month of January was not such an awesome month. February, however, seems to be slowly shaping up in my favor. I have a new job that makes me feel like I'm actually moving forward in life, LSATs done (again that feeling of moving forward and accomplishing things), and a little trip to see if I can't get my personal life in order is coming up rather quickly. I even scheduled myself for a massage this Friday (a fitting reward for all my stress I should think).

2008 did not begin as "The Year of Faye," but it seems to be experiencing an upswing. Here's to hoping that the current trend continues!

The Simple Things

Simple Things That Have Brought Me Pleasure in the Past Few Days:

Champagne with fresh berries. I took my LSATs and then went and had a mental breakdown. None of us (Mo, B, and myself) were feeling particularly festive, but we figured that really ought not keep one from indulging in champagne. And if you have fresh strawberries and blackberries to throw in there, then all the better.

Going for walks in the middle of the night. If you ever feel the need to clear your head, talk to someone about something, or just have to think something through, a walk is always fantastic. I'm always most honest when I'm moving. I make lots of important decisions and conclusions while on hikes and jogs.

Hearing someone say they've missed you. I'm not one who feels compelled to always verbalize my emotions. I can even come off as a bit cold if you don't know me well enough. But I have to say, though I don't think I responded appropriately (I smiled and surely blushed, but as we were on the phone there's no way to see that), it's stuck with me and still makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Finding the perfect music for a silly computer game.
Bejeweled2+Architecture in Helsinki=Awesome. I haven't listened to Architecture in Helsinki for ages and just randomly decided upon it as I was playing Bejeweled last night (after having my warm and fuzzy converstaion: see above). As the music began to play I had to double take to remember that it was coming from my iTunes and not the game itself.

Getting up early to workout with a good friend. I used to get up between 6 and 6:30 every morning to work out but as I haven't had any need to be anywhere early these days I've taken to lying in. Though I apparently wanted to snooze when my alarm went off at 6:30 this morning (I thought I turned it off, but low and behold I heard it going off from all the way down on the first floor...oops) it was great to get out and get going. I felt so accomplished!

Ahhhh, life's simple pleasures.