Monday, October 10, 2011

Hello and welcome to An Altitude Problem, where the level of anxiety is high, but we are not sure why. It's all the unknown. It's not having a job. It's that feeling of panic at not knowing where you are headed and if you are making the right decisions.

I quit my job at the lodging company, for reallsies, the other day. The woman who takes reservations and acts as go-between for the owner of the company had some misinformation given her by a new hire that cast me in a less than favorable light, and she called and yelled at me for fifteen minutes before taking enough of a breath to allow me to defend myself. She calmed down after getting the facts, but I suddenly had enough. I wasn't getting much work anymore, and I wasn't getting the benefit of the doubt after having proven for eight years that I have nothing but the best interest of this company in mind. Sudden anger swelled up and spilled over and I told her that she had helped me see that the time had come for me to move on. Which I did. I have not been back since. I feel a little guilty, yes, since I have never quit a job for any reason other than necessity, never told a boss that I am quitting because I am not happy with the job. However, I have also always been on excellent terms with my bosses and never felt taken advantage of, nor have I ever felt as though I have been treated unfairly. It was a new experience for me, and one I was not prepared for. The triumph of exercising my right to refuse my services put me on a bit of a power high and I walked away shaky but giddy. Bobby and I had a long talk, during which he assured me I had done the right thing, and we decided that if we have to cut our losses with this house, fire-sale it, that is okay. It's not worth placing stress on our marriage by living in two separate states all winter. Sure, I could work at the ski shop, but is staying up here worth the wages they pay? Not really. So he made the executive decision that I should go to Kansas. No sooner did I get down there than it rained six inches in two days, and the entire area is a bottomless mud pit. There will be no spreading until the fields dry out. So we packed up the dog and a suitcase and drove back to Colorado for an appointment with the tax accountant.

The first thing we did when we got here was check the mail, and sure enough, a bill from my emergency room visit. $4,000. And neither of us working at the moment. And cold weather, so nothing to do but sit and mull over our lives. I have never needed a bike ride so badly, but the trails are wet. We had hoped we could make a trip to Fruita for a few days, and we still hope to, but it costs money to drive out there. Aint life grand?

Not whining. I know this is the stuff life is made of, and as such, it's a beautiful life. I have love, if no money. I have the promise that everything will get better. In six months, we can move into a beautiful house in the bottom of a peaceful valley, a house with room for friends. So there's no jobs out there that are an option for me, but there is the chance that maybe I will be pregnant, then have a kid, so I can justify not working to my overdeveloped sense of responsibility. B tells me to live in the present, and normally, I would agree, but I'm not really loving the present right now. It's an excellent way to get to the future, and I'm okay with that. But at the same time, I am trying to remember that I am not promised the future, so I need to enjoy the things that are good right now- Bobby and Andy and a really psychotic cat named Marvin with serious abandonment issues who occasionally comes around begging for food and human touch, a warm house and a sense of humor and irony- one of the few things, along with a really ugly couch and a chair that eats things, that we brought with us when we moved. Not complaining. Just wondering at which point it would be justified for me to start. I have to conclude it would need to be pretty bad before I could complain without guilt- we have food and love and shelter and health. To some, we are a little underachieving but to so many millions more, we are wealthy beyond imagination. Life IS grand.