Ahhh, how much I took for granted being a wino in a small town. It's hard not to reminisce as I re-read my previous angst filled blog posts that are overflowing with indecision, ripe with self-deprecation and flavored with just a hint of earnest self-pity that can only be cultivated by a comfortable mid-twenties lifestyle. My former self would tell my present self "Well, at least all that self-imposed suffering was worth it- you made it to the big time! Big city life and big girl job! Now lose a few pounds and finally learn to cook you big complainer!"
My former self would be mostly right. The school and work paid off and here I am serving the public, paying all my bills on time and treating myself to frozen yogurt whenever the spirit moves me. I have made it. It's most unfortunate that my public service career bars me from writing about much of what happens in my day to day grind, but I am sure I can change some names to protect the innocent and bring you a few stories here and there that will put a smile on your face and fear in your heart about the state of public education. Nonetheless, in the end, I know this blog will hardly be read and my meanderings about my life and losses are mainly for my own benefit.
But in case anyone has been thoroughly miffed at my radio silence, consider yourself caught up to speed. Along with my gainful employment and my move to the DC area, I have maintained a stellar relationship with a fabulous man, who unfortunately is in grad school deep in the bowels of the American South. In his absence, I've made lots of great new friends at my work to keep me company, along with my many dear old friends who live in the area. I managed to live with the craziest person in the DC area, and subsequently found myself squatting with none-other than my bold and fearless former roommate Grahame and his wife Caroline. I tried Dahn yoga, coached my school's quizbowl team, sprained my ankle, helped my Mom through brain surgery and learned how to work a DVR. My goals at present include joining a softball team, finding a permanent dwelling, taking advantage of more out-of-school volunteering opportunities and continuing to explore the amazing bike trails this area has to offer. I also would like to rekindle my former passion for dancing with reckless abandon in weird places, including my kitchen, car and unsuspecting metro platforms.
It's certainly true that I miss my life as a wino in a small town. But I think I'll keep the name. Who knows, the time may come when I will be a wino in a small town again. Besides, it sounds better than "school counselor in suburban hell", don't you think?
