It’s hard to think of anything blossoming in the literal sense while Minnesota impatiently awaits Spring’s arrival (for example, I had to use an ice scraper this morning. In April. Unreal).
But many other things are blossoming this time of year and I have been awaiting them with as much anticipation as the warmer sun, breezy skies, and vivid landscapes of earth painted by the blooming perennials.
Blossoming independence. Figuring life out after grad school isn’t always pleasant, and having a temporary, grant-funded position without benefits doesn’t exactly help one feel any more secure in their future. Instead, I made like a barnacle and affixed to anything and anyone I could. Including my sister’s basement, where I have been living at a reduced cost since August. It’s been good, really. I’ve saved some cash, figured out my tops from bottoms, successfully navigated the student loan repayment system, and so on. So on May 7, I am stretching my independence stride a little further and I am moving into my own apartment (you may or may not have noticed the theme of recent blog posts being
somewhat entirely about said new place). It’s nothing terribly fancy, but it has that wonderful ‘old, renovated building’ charm. It’s small (perhaps tiny) at 500 square feet, but those will be my 500 square feet. With my stuff. And probably by May 10, my huge mess. But! I don’t have to feel guilty about my mess in my space. Lovely. With this will come some other independences I have been meaning to do for a while, like no longer claiming my childhood home as my permanent address.
I believe the phrase my dad used on the phone during a conversation was “putting on my big girl panties.”
Blossoming opportunities. When my current position was extended in December, I was told that the duration of the job was limited by the available funds. This never means: “If we spend wisely we might be able to keep you for a long time.” It always means: “Every penny not spent by or on July 31 is returned to the funder and your position ceases to exist. Forever. Without opportunity for resurrection. We’d love to keep you but cannot, please do not let the door hit you on the way out.” So, I was quite positive that August would find me unemployed and unable to find work and thus all of the effort I had put into my blossoming independence (see above) would fail to matter and I would once again be stalled. But it turns out tomorrow I have a job interview with a metro county and my boss is feverishly working to see if a position can be created in our current department. Whoa. Now, realistically I might not be the right candidate for either position, but at least I know there is some hope.
Blossoming creativity. In case working, looking for new jobs, and moving weren’t quite enough for me, I am also hanging my first art show in June at the UCare Minneapolis Skyway Senior Center. So, I have been/will be working at a semi-frantic pace to complete as many paintings as possible before then which means I have had to creative with subject matter. I simply cannot hang 12 Spoonbridge and Cherry paintings in one show…
Blossoming drive and athleticism. This is one of those tempermental blooms that are so hard to tend to. Too much water? Unhealthy yellowing of the leaves. Not enough sun? Wilty. But while I had neglected my duties to hammer out some miles for a couple of weeks, I am back on track (I think) and the goals I have set for myself seem challenging, but potentially obtainable. It’s a tough balance to find the time to work out, and it is especially hard to tell someone that you can’t make plans or have to make abbreviated plans in order to fit in a workout. To me, it sounds like I am telling them that 45 minutes by myself on a dreadmill is more important, which isn’t the case at all. It’s a means to an end, and really, that end is pretty important to me. Whether or not it is a marathon (although I think it still is), I still have triathlons and other races to participate in and I want to do so knowing I gave the preparation everything I had.
romance relationship whatever it is you call that feeling when someone gives you the butterflies all the time and you like to talk to them about matters of absolutely no consequence just because it’s fun and you miss them when they’re gone, but you’re sort of over impressing them but not because you don’t want to but because you’re finally pretty comfortable that this is something good. Yeah, whatever that is called, it’s good.