The SoCal Blues

I have a sneaking suspicion the honeymoon is over.  Yes - It's quite possible the charm of my temporary move back to SoCal has already worn off.  I know it seems short-lived, but let's face it, my life was thrown into an uproar the minute I accepted this travel stint, and the chaos is finally catching up with me.  I toss and turn at night.  I'm (ever so slightly) moody and cranky.  I feel an internal state of funk beginning to build.  You'd think I'd be a little tougher, being the seasoned traveler I am.  It hasn't even been that long.  I've only been gone for two weeks, after all.  Besides, it's beautiful out here, I'm having fun catching up with friends, and I genuinely enjoy my job.

So why am I complaining?  Despite all of the upsides (and there are many), I can't but help miss my bed, my puppy, and my hubby.  I'm working on a serious case of homesickness right now, and am not sure how to cure what ails me.  Quitting is not an option (or really a desire).  And, thanks to our mixed-up schedules, neither is a quick visit home.  So, I'm just going to have to tough it out, waiting patiently for my angst to fade.

If memory serves me correctly, I felt this way the first months on my own in Australia.  I missed Mouse, and our life together, so acutely it hurt.  I pined for him in a way I didn't even know possible.  But, eventually the pain dissipated to a dull ache, until I was able to see the value of being on my own for a spell.  The same will happen here.  It won't be long before I'm so caught up in work and my own routine, that I won't even remember what all of my moping was about.  So, for now, I just need to power through these melancholy days and hold on to the simple things, like funny voice-mails and silly texts.  They may not bring me the creature-comforts of home, but they will help uplift my mood and sustain my soul.  (And that is more important than any memory-foam bed.)

My Home Away from Home

I wish I had the energy to write when I'm working. I wish I could muster the determination to sit at my computer for just a few minutes and jot down everything that's going on. There are always so many things I want to write about. I try to take mental note of them as they happen and keep them in the forefront of my brain, but it never seems to work. By the time I get home, I'm too exhausted to eat, let alone write. I use every last bit of energy I have left to shower and decontaminate before collapsing into bed, forgetting everything that means anything.

If I had remembered, I probably would have talked about how strange it was to go back to work here in Cali; how I felt like I was living in a state of deja vu, as I drove up the interstate on Monday. I'm back at a hospital I know well, but never thought I'd walk into again. I had happily said my good-byes, convinced my days at this facility were over. But fate had other plans for me, so there I sat in the parking lot, just prior to my shift, dumbfounded I was really about to start another assignment there.

If I could have summoned the energy, I also would have talked about how genuinely good it felt to be back. This is a busy trauma facility, not in the best of neighborhoods, but something about it resonates within me. It was satisfying to get my hands dirty again, and take on some tough cases. It was even better to be able to get back to working with such a talented (and bawdy) staff. I fell right back into my old routines, as though I had never left. Oddly enough, I really felt like I had returned home.

There are so many other things I could write about. It was a big week, for sure. But it's the little things that are standing out in my mind tonight. Who knows what the next few months will bring? I'm sure I'll have some great stories to tell. If I can only remember to write them down before I drift off to sleep...

Begging for Mercy

Uh, yeah.  How embarrassing.  This weekend definitely kicked my butt.  Two short runs, with a mini-brick thrown in for good measure, and I'm feeling it.  This is soooo not acceptable.  Even worse was all of the huffing and puffing it took me to barely maintain my snail's pace while running.  And my shorter-than-short ride?  I'm not even going there.  Ugh.  What has happened to me?  How did I go from Half-Iron shape last month to this?

Yes, I did intentionally take time off and tone down my training after the Steelhead 70.3.  I'd earned a little rest time, after all.  But I had no idea my fitness level would take such a nose-dive.  The whole thing is mortifying and humbling.  Less than a month ago, I would have breezed through said workouts, without a second thought.  This weekend, it took every last bit of determination I could muster to make it through that last mile.  Maybe this is my body's way of telling me it's time to scale back and give it more recovery time.  I'll be the first to admit, I've been pushing myself this year.  First, the Big Sur Marathon.  Then the training for the Boise 70.3, even though it ended up becoming my race that never was.  June was a blur of backpacking the Tetons and Yellowstone, putting in upwards of twelve miles a day with fifty-pound packs upon our backs.  Then I jumped right back into training for Steelhead.

Maybe my poor body has earned the right to rest a little longer, but the Pumpkinman Olympic Triathlon is quickly approaching, so I don't see that happening any time soon.  I wouldn't miss this race for the world, so I need my body to start cooperating.  Maybe I just need a new, more forgiving approach.  Maybe I need to start a little slower and allow my body to find it's groove.  Either way, I'm not giving up.  I'll just have to find a way to push through the pain.

Going Back to Cali...

Just when I thought life was beginning to settle down, that I'd finally have a moment to catch my breathe, this had to happen.  It's not necessarily a bad thing, it's just that it (i.e. the insanity) never seems to end.  I was happy to be in Denver, to re-visit my old haunts, to ease back into the life I left.  I enjoyed working for my new agency.  I loved reconnecting with old friends.  I had a puppy and a house I loved.  I was content.  But, for whatever reason, the Universe didn't see it that way.  I guess it had other plans for me.

It all started out as an innocent text from a friend, who also happens to be my recruiter.  At first I laughed at the offer, thinking it absurd.  There was no way I could actually consider going back to Cali right now.  I had just gotten back to Denver, and the logistics would be a nightmare.  I would need an affordable place to stay.  I would have to leave my puppy behind.  Plus, Mouse would never go for this.  I texted her "no".  She responded with the offer.  I faltered.  Hmm...

So, after a whirlwind week of Facebook inquiries, text messaging, and one VERY long drive, here I am in SoCal.  None of it seems real to me quite yet.  I left behind one incredibly rambunctious puppy and one incredibly understanding (and supportive) husband.  I can't believe we're back to doing the long-distance thing; I really thought we were done with that.  But, sometimes, life throws us curve-balls, and we have no choice but to play ball.  This is a great opportunity, both financially and career-wise, so I'm glad we're able to make it work.  I always say that life is an adventure; I guess this is just another example of me learning to embrace it.  Denver will still be there when this assignment it over, as will my house, my Mouse, and my puppy.  Welcome back to Cali.

Accident Prone

Seriously? Seriously?!? What is it about my car that makes it such an accident magnet here in Colorado?  I made it through two years of SoCal bumper-to-bumper insanity totally unscathed.  But it seems like my car is just begging to get hit now that I'm out here.  I don't get it.  It's not too flashy.  It's not too small.  It's an average, run-of-the-mill SUV, absolutely typical to Colorado, so it's not like the other drivers can't see it, or have any reason to target it.  Nevertheless, that's now twice in two months.  Twice!  Ugh!  And, for the record, neither were my fault; I wasn't even driving.  The first time, we were trying to find a parking spot downtown, when some girl just blew through a red light.  Minimal damage, with maximum annoyance.

Fast forward a few weeks.  This time, Mouse and I were on our way up to Nederland for a hike, stopped in a long line of Boulder traffic, when this guy rear-ended us at full speed.  I'm not kidding, he hit us HARD.  I don't even understand how he was driving that fast in such heavy traffic.  But, of course, he was, and the back end of my ill-fated Escape, as well as my neck, are now paying the price.  So, instead of playing with our puppy on the trails, we got to spend our Saturday afternoon in the ER.  That was definitely NOT how we had envisioned our weekend.

Luckily, we're all OK.  My neck and back are little worse for wear, but nothing some good muscle relaxers and chiropractic work can't fix.  And it looks like my jinxed SUV is headed back to the shop again.  Poor baby.  Will she ever catch a break?  One can only hope.

The Shame of the Game

Wow. That was painful, and not in a good way. All I can do now is hang my head in shame. Yup, yesterday was a lesson in utter, abject humiliation on the golf course. It was seriously agonizing. Sure, I had an idea it wasn't going to be pretty. It was the first golf tournament I've ever dared play, and the first time I'd even stepped foot on a course in years, after all. But it was for a good cause and I was among friends, so I figured it couldn't be too bad. Boy, was I ever wrong.

It's amazing how much trouble one little ball can cause. I topped it. I whiffed. I sliced. I hooked. I did anything but connect with it and make a straight shot. For someone who can hit the ball so solidly at the driving range, I was an out-of-control mess. Even the cocktails I consumed along the course were of no assistance. It was mortifying. I'm just thankful my friends were gracious enough to cut me some slack and refrain from teasing me too badly.

All humiliation and mortification aside, it was a good day with good friends, and a great way to wrap up our Michigan vacation. Now I just need to work on my game...