Summer of Susan -- The First Month

I wish I had more energy to write tonight, but after a full day car shopping (more on that later) and an evening at boot camp, I am Wiped Out. So, tonight's post comes to you in list form.

The first month of the Summer of Susan has been mellow and relaxing -- exactly what I was hoping for. I did, however, manage to accomplish a few things:

7 Movies Watched

Chimpanzee

This American Life Live!

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

Bernie

Dark Shadows

Men in Black 3

What to Expect when You're Expecting

3 Plays Attended

Wicked

Little Shop of Horrors

Rx

7 Books Read

State of Wonder – Ann Patchett

This is How – Augusten Burroughs

Cockeyed – Ryan Knighton

Father's Day – Buzz Bissinger

Let's Pretend This Never Happened – Jenny Lawson

Louise: Amended – Louise Krug

We The Animals – Justin Torres

20 Workouts in the Books

Boot Camp & HIIT x 8 sessions

Walking x 6 miles

Swimming x 3.25 miles

Cycling x 37 miles

And last but not least, I leave you with one final number:  $3,900.00.  In other words, the estimate for repairs to my 12-year-old car (and hence, the reason for today's car shopping). I hope to be driving something new by this time next week. Until then, peace out.

This is how to disappoint your fans

I'm trying to find the right words to say what I think about Augusten Burrough's new book. To say I hate it isn't quite right.

It wasn't what I expected. It wasn't what I've come to love about Augusten. I didn't realize it was a self-help book rather than a memoir. Because his memoirs are what I know, what I love, and what I crave.

His advice, on the other hand, isn't what I'm looking for. It's not that I don't need it or don't appreciate it. It's just not what he does well. What he does well is tell wonderfully dark and hilarious stories about himself. Stories that are so rich that you think they're fictional. When you find out they're real, you almost don't want to believe it. You wonder how anybody could go through half the stuff he's been through, let alone all of it. But you take it in, you revel in it, and you end up wanting more.

I want no more of the current book, and I'm kind of sad to say so. I don't mind the self-help angle as much as I mind the inane platitudes that he whips out just about every other page. They started out simple enough, and I was digging them – for example:

Resentment is anger looking for payback.

Decisions are beautiful. They are evidence of thought and care. Decisions are the polishing cloths of life.

But they just kept coming, and coming, and coming. And they started to make me angry, and I started to hate them:

Regret is the lost and found of life.

Wishing is the meal you only dreamed you ate.

Hatred is clinical-strength anger.

Rage is anger with the volume turned all the way to the right.

Need is the focused, highly fortified form of want.

Delay is a gun pointed at the temple of confidence.

Perfectionism is the satin-lined casket of creativity and originality.

Shame is a foot that grinds glee into the dirt.

And I had to stop reading the book. I'm going to return it to the library tomorrow. I think I'll go read Dry again, because I don't like this irritated feeling I have toward Augusten Burroughs and I want it to go away.

And so it begins

I left my job today. On purpose. 

I'm calling it a self-imposed, self-funded, self-nurturing sabbatical.

I'm a little excited, a little scared, and still unsure of what my next steps will be. 

But mostly, I'm just really happy to begin this adventure. I don't know where it will take me and I don't know where it will end, and that's the best part of the whole sordid thing.

How it came to be

I've been working a contract position for the past six months, filling in for an employee who was out on maternity leave.  Before that, I was with my previous company for 14 years. The 14-year company had layoffs last October and, just like that, I was out of a job.  I was lucky to find my current (or past, as of about three hours ago) contract job just a few weeks after the layoffs, and I immediately fell into a really good groove with the new company.  I knew it would be a temporary groove, because my contract was only slated to run for six months, but I made the most of it.

It was fun. Creative. Low-stress. 9 to 5. No weekends and no laptop to lug home. In other words, it was a dream come true and a 180 degree turn from what I'd been doing up to this point.

And today, I'm done and I'm moving on.

The reality was that my work had wrapped up, maternity employee returned and I handed all of the reigns back to her capable hands. They asked me to stay. They wanted to keep me. I said thank you very much, but I'm going on sabbatical.

I said I'll call you in the fall.

Because, come on -- how often do you get to say that, and how often does anyone get to take real time off? I'm talking more than a weekend here or a week there. I'm talking about taking the next four months off, and just seeing where it takes me. I don't have the answer to that question right now, but I've got some good ideas. My ideas aren't grandiose like I think most people expect to hear.  Maybe my ideas will evolve in time, and I expect that they will.


But for now, I have small goals. I want to unwind. I want to take road trips. I want to exercise more. I want to learn something new. I want to go camping. I want to swim and ride my bike.  I want to cook. I want to write.


And the best part is -- there's just no time like the present to dive right in. So dive I shall, and I'll wait to see where exactly this leap takes me.