G-Log

For those of you who may not have heard, I start a new job tomorrow. I will be the HR Administrator at a stem cell research company (donated stem cells–not embryonic stem cells). I’m nervous, but really excited. I needed a new job, a new challenge, and I am fascinated by what this company does. I am so ready for a new me. I’ve got new clothes, new shoes, got my hair cut, and I’ve started Weight Watchers. I’m hopeful that this will be a great change for me. Dean put it perfectly: This is a chance for me to reinvent myself. Nobody there knows me well, so I have no past. Of course it’s always scary being the new person, but if I’m confident in myself and my abilities I think I will do great. And this couldn’t have come at a better time. Wish me luck!

I’ve been very discontent with life lately. Well, I think ever since Leo was born. I figured it was the life change, post-partum depression, lack of sleep, etc. I keep waiting for it to go away, but it hasn’t, and I can’t keep expecting it to go away on its own. Some of you may say “You should be content with your life as it is.” And I suppose that’s true sometimes. But nobody can ever improve their life if they settle to be content with the way things are. Having Leo has really made me take stock of my life and how I live it. The fact of the matter is things NEED to change. I’ve recently gotten a new job that I start on March 1st. I think that will be a good first step. My current job isn’t bad and they have been good to me over the years, but I’m to the point where I just need a change. I’m burnt out, and the only cure is to move on. The second change that needs to be made, whether it be this year or next, is a move to a house. We need a yard for the kids to run and play. We need to get away from stressing about pissing off our upstairs or downstairs neighbors, or the HOA board member that has nothing better to do than survey the neighborhood. Leo needs a room he can sleep in during the summer, and we need an air conditioner that works and doesn’t run up our electric bill. Dean and I discussed staying in our current place for two years since we’ve had to move so much, but the reality is the last two moves have been necessities beyond our control. We were gipped out of buying a place. We were never given the time to look and find a place we would be happy in for an extended period of time. So come June we will start looking for a house to rent. If we can’t find one in our price range, we’ll stay put, but we at least need to try. I don’t think I’m asking for much. Am I? I want a better life for myself and my family, and that won’t happen if I don’t try.

I thought I’d share this, since I’m sure most of us are starting to feel this way.

She pops into the bathroom
Just after a shower and
She plays with my makeup and dreams
“Heap’s trying to look like me”

And goes through the motions posing this way and that
Holding it in
If it makes you feel better then knock yourself out

Say hi there to my bad body double
This is my bad body double trouble
Oh, no my bad body double mm hm
I got bad body double trouble

She’s trouble
She’s trouble
She’s trouble alright.

Sometimes I just want to lose her
Shake her at a bar or gym for five minutes
It feels so good to be back in my own self again
Can get quite confusing

We look very similar except she’s got some grays and
A little extra weight on the side
Dimply thighs I hear that stuff’s a bitch to get rid of

We’re having quite an intimate personal moment (not now)
Could you maybe come at a slightly less awful time? (not now)
She can see I’ve got someone quite nice here with me
Can’t we just be left alone
I guess that’s a no then
Seeing as how you’re still here
Seeing as how you’re still here

It’s not me no
It’s my bad body double
I’ve got bad body double trouble
Oh no my bad body double trouble

- Imogen Heap

Have you ever stopped to wonder what your life would be like if you were born in a different time? It crossed my mind earlier today; I’m not sure why. But I wondered what my life would be like if, say, I was born in the 1800s. I would be me, in body and soul, but I wouldn’t be ME. I wouldn’t have had the same experiences and opportunities, so I would be a different person. I imagine I would look the same, but would my natural disposition still be the same? Would I still be introverted, a perfectionist, a control freak? And if I was, would I even knew what those things mean? Would I be married? Probably. But if I was, would I have married for love or because it was expected of me? Would I be a poor farmer’s wife? Considering where I was born, that’s highly likely. I needed a c-section with Leo. Would I have died giving birth? It’s all so much a matter of chance, where and when we are born. We have no control over it, and yet it plays such a huge role in defining who we are. What would Dean, my computer geek, do if he lived in a time before computers? Would I still love music so much, without such easy access to it? I don’t believe in reincarnation, but I would love to meet a different me in a different time. Just to compare notes.

I was having a conversation with a friend at work yesterday and I wanted to get some feedback on this particular topic.

You would think at my age, insecurities would start to diminish somewhat. I’m a married woman and my husband thinks I’m beautiful. So why am I so insecure about my weight? I am in a stable job that I feel I’m fairly good at, and I feel my position is secure for the most part, so why do I worry about my review? I know that I’m loved. Why should I care so much what people think of me? And do I even care about the people whose opinions I care about? It’s certainly not debilitating, but it’s always there, just under the surface. It’s such a strange thing to me. At what age does it start to go away, if ever? Surely when I’m 70 years old I won’t care what other people think, will I?

Maybe my insecurities still exist because I don’t feel like an “adult.” Not that I know what feeling like an adult should feel like, but I don’t feel much different than I did when I was a teenager. I still like the same types of music, though my tastes have expanded somewhat. I still like the same foods, the same activities. I help take care of a home and I’m a mom and I make sure bills get paid and have a full-time job, but all of that seemed like such a natural life progression that it didn’t have as much impact as I thought it would (well, with the exception of the mom part). Or maybe the reality is that everyone has insecurities–we just don’t talk about them as much when we get older. Maybe we get better at hiding them, or denying they are there. Maybe we’re all in the same boat. That would make me feel a little better, anyway.