the book i’m reading right now suggests that i take comfort in the “boring” in-between stages between a learning curve and a success.  the plateau is something from which i should find great solace and learning.  this is his suggestion over two other paths: one in which i basically become obsessed with reaching that next success, staying late and doing nothing but working undyingly to achieve my goal.  or, i bolt.

impatience is my middle name.*
i’ve played equally in both of the paths that aren’t suggested. finding familiar comfort in nothing happening is going to be a struggle.  why?  because i consider it complacency.  why?  because i’m not convinced this is what i should be doing.  my life in general, that is.

sometimes i think i’m becoming almost painfully aware of the choices i make and don’t make.  i find myself getting overwhelmingly excited about some ideas only to watch their brilliance wear off a few days later.  and that what i initially my reject could hold great potential that i should consider realistically.

for every one great idea or assumption about what to do next, there’s doubt laying wait, underlying the plateau that i’m instead supposed to be comfortable with.

that’s what i’m saying — if i knew what mountain i was climbing, or where i was headed, perhaps i wouldn’t feel so disconcerted by plateaus.  that i’m not wasting time but instead enjoying it.

that’s not to say i’m not enjoying myself immensely in many ways (because i am).  but it is to say that i sometimes (all the time) wonder if this is it.  this is what i signed up for?  what i can be?  all i can be at this time?

and i keep thinking the answer is “no.”

*no, that’s not true.  it’s anne.

chicago is a great city. the traffic, like any big city, not so great. but the overall feel is vibrant with its tall buildings, gaggles of young people crowding the sidewalks, roaming rivers traversed by old iron and steel bridges whose slats push our car elegantly from side-to-side like a subtle but unnerving roller coaster. being right on the lake and having a population that sounds more like me — with an endearing midwestern accent, of course — is just marvelous.

thanks to a tremendous amount of traffic and not-to-tremendous number of parking spaces, the weekend was punctuated with unnecessary stress, racing the clock to spend less time in the car and more time doing whatever. we spent a laughable amount of energy trying to get from the airport out of the city to the burbs, back into the city, parking at the hotel, out to a restaurant, back to a bar, parking at the bar, parking at lunch, and back to the airport.

spending time with juji, as always, was great. trying to do everything else, not as great.

i bit off more than i could chew. i didn’t hang out with my friend as much as she’d have liked. i didn’t remember to bring my skirt for what was supposed to be a semi-formal occasion. i wasn’t prepared to handle questions i knew invariably that i’d be asked. i just wanted to have a good time and spend as little time thinking about the details as possible.

this is probably not a good approach when you’re trying to cater to multiple parties.

everyone has a preconception. whether it’s for protection or justification or legitimization or just intellectual exploration doesn’t matter. life isn’t black-and-white, and so sometimes i’m left to muddle rather clumsily through the gray fog along what otherwise is a clear path. some people say this is fun. the unknown, that is. i believe them. then expectations and stress and confusion take over, the mind takes a back seat to emotion, and i grasp to find something familiar to reorient myself. when it’s not there, i feel rather helpless.

it’s like i’m on some road, and i see one of those “hey there’s a scenic lookout over here. come check it out!” so i take the detour to see what i can see. it’s pretty. i see a foot path. i follow it. then before i know it, it’s an hour later and i’m lost. what path seems to be the quickest way back? is there a path less traveled i should be walking instead?

why the fuck don’t i have more answers by now, and how in the hell did i get here in the first place?

part of my new commitment to traveling and trying to say “no” less was to grow personally. i have. i can’t believe i was eating octopus and unidentifiable sauces followed by cappuccino just a couple hours before i was set to jump back on a plane. these are things i’d never imagine doing before. i’ve met new people, and i’m met my own expectations — exceeded them in many areas — but still realize i fall short in meeting others’. whether it’s at work or in life, even when every fiber of my being is devoted to living honestly, without obligation and resentment, and with intense enthusiasm, it can be crippingly frustrating.

it wasn’t until i returned to virginia and tossed and turned all night, struggling to figure out the unrest and burden i was feeling, that i realized this was the first weekend in many that failed to meet my own expectations. i got caught up in the unnecessary tertiary dramas of others’ perceptions of what should be. it influenced my own. it influenced others. we all struggled. i couldn’t win. it sucked.

i forget where i parked.