Archive for September, 2011

cosmic developments

September 24, 2011

I’ve had plenty of ideas for blog topics in the past month but few opportunities to sketch them out.  Now it’s a Friday night, a month since my last post in August, and after a beer, I’m close to being done with the day.  With all the work that lies ahead, I know any more time lost will mean no posts in September.  I’ve made my goal modest but apparently not enough.  The other remedy is to soldier through, which I will attempt to do this evening.

Since July there’s been lots of activity in my domestic and professional spheres.  Within a span of 10 days, I gained a kitten, had my apartment lease terminated, and been offered 2 jobs, in precisely that order.  After a year and a half of relative stability (and shut-in status), I’ve been struggling to keep up.

I’ve already written about Bandit, and strangely enough, about one of my new jobs in a post from last October when I first interviewed for it.  In that post (“What Do People Do All Day”), I marveled over the various ways people earn their daily bread, and now I do precisely what I felt at the time was so unique:  I write descriptions of the night sky for a graphics company.    The prints are beautiful, my coworkers are supportive and smart, the music . . . well, other than Van’s reggae Beatles tribute album where the singers are too stoned to get the lyrics right, the music is pretty great too.

That I interviewed for the job in October 2010 and got the job offer in July, some 5 days after the landlord informed me he was terminating my lease, is just one of the strange ways the Universe tends to behave and why I continue to stay tuned for future developments.  I’ve discovered that there’s only so much I can do in plotting any course; hidden plans always seem to come into play at precisely those moments when I’m about to lose my faith.  A path opens before me so I can safely walk to where, apparently, I’ve been expected.  Trust me, it’s not as easy as it sounds.  Lots of nail-biting and comfort-eating transpire before anything productive occurs.

The same scenario has replayed itself in the past week, as once again, I was down to the wire in finding a place to live.  I dread the prospect of moving, not just for the physical trauma, but because, in an over-priced rental market like Charlottesville, I can expect that the apartments I struggle to afford will be small and depressing.  On the heels of seeing a wood cabin  13 miles out of town, the last 1/4 mile being gravel road with a grim bathroom offset by a wood stove, I had another appointment, downtown, and it was exactly what I’d hoped for — small but open, clean and modern, and 6 blocks from my main job.  I rushed my application over to the property office where the office manager looked at it, pointed to my new boss’ name under my employment information, and said, “He’s my uncle.”

Sometimes the Universe pushes you around until you feel you don’t belong anywhere.  Other times it places a chair beneath you, telling you to relax and stay awhile.  The move is on the horizon.  I will be a frazzled wreck by the end and the cats will be needy nevertheless.  But the next post I write will be from our new place in town where we will be happy to rest our bones for a short while at least.