What a summer it’s been. Every year I brace myself as June comes along and announces that hot, sticky weather won’t be far behind. For me, with it comes extra transit delays due to track work and more time waiting in stifling subway stations. I also inevitably find myself jealously listening to other people’s vacation plans and stories, and wondering when we’ll get our finances and lifestyle in place enough to take trips ourselves. And to make it worse, I miss the convenience of having multiple outdoor rinks around the city where I can fit skating in at least weekly. I struggle to exercise as much, and start feeling sluggish. So I tend to think of a summer as a long hot slog through three months and I just bear it enough to get through.
This year, I remember thinking that maybe it won’t be so bad, that I need to try to enjoy it.
But, unfortunately that would not be so for me. This summer, my Husband and I:
Returned home from a pleasant walk on a Saturday afternoon to find our apartment had been burgled and 3 laptops, 2 of them work computers, had been stolen
Commenced an apartment search planning to finally move from our starter apartment that we’ve been in for 6 years, only to determine that we could not yet afford to move somewhere better
Worked overtime every week, feeling stressed and overwhelmed that we could not get things done in the timeframes asked of us
Learned of a family member’s struggle with cocaine use
Supported our family as they faced another eviction proceeding, which ended in us coming to the rescue with 1-2k that we’d been planning to use to book an anniversary trip, our first non-family-visit vacation since our honeymoon 5 years ago
Fought a tiresome battle with our CEO to get Husband’s freelancer paycheck in time to help our family close that eviction case
Fought another tiresome battle to get a review that was promised to me for 3 months after job start, and has still not been completed as we reach month 9
Experienced 2 painful cyst ruptures despite being on birth control which is usually prescribed to prevent cysts from forming, and
Had one breakdown that ended in doubling my dose of Prozac after months of carefully reducing it as part of a plan to try to reduce my meds before trying for baby. Now I’ll wait 3 more months and then try to reduce the Wellbutrin instead.
Now, there have been some good things happening – we are on track to finish paying down 2-4 of the debts we’ve been carrying for years, we’ve both gained tremendous experience in our jobs, and Husband is successfully charging over 20% more for his freelance work than he did just last year. Once he actually gets paid for that work, I’m sure that will feel good.
I turned 28 last weekend, and I’ve been thinking a lot. We need a change. I need a change. I feel as though inertia and lethargy have settled in, and I can barely stand it anymore. I want to start fresh, to move somewhere new, decorate our living space as the adults that we are instead of the college kid that I was when we moved here, start taking vacations, saving a nest egg, exercising and eating healthier, planning for a family, and enjoying life more. I’m trying to muster what energy I have to make that happen.
Perhaps this Fall we will get ourselves solidly on that path. I sure hope so.