Anticipation

My EDD (Estimated Date of Delivery, a.k.a. "Baby's Due Date") - May 21st - coincides with what many believe will be the second coming of Jesus Christ.  Apparently, it's all in the Bible... if you do some reading between the lines and a little number-crunching:

May 21, 2011 = Judgement Day. 

I find it exceptionally intriguing that a whole group of people are looking forward to May 21st, like my husband and me, but for a very different reason.  The symptoms are probably the same though - an increasing sense of excitement and nervousness as the day approaches... We're probably asking ourselves very similar questions: "Did I do enough to prepare?" "What have I gotten myself into?" "What if everything (everyone) goes to all hell?"

We're looking forward to this day, but we have no idea what to expect.  Will it be the end of something? The beginning? Both?  Will my life become filled with a joy I've never even conceived of before? Will it bring disappointment?  Will I just discover that I'm a big fat failure?

So much pressure.  So much anticipation.  So much hope and fear and curiosity...

And, in the end (no pun intended), none of us will even have the wherewithal to realize the result.  We'll probably all just be in the mix, enjoying the ride, not able to think objectively and judge whether it was a success or a failure. 

That is, until it's too late.

Appreciation

 

Why is it we only appreciate things when they're about to be ripped away from us or - worse - after we've already lost them?  Is it immaturity? The value of something increases only because we can't have it anymore? Or a minor form of hubris?  We get too set in our ways and take for granted that it may not last forever?

The other day I was griping to my husband about how being unemployed and having nothing to do all day isn't what it's cracked up to be.  After a while, it is possible (although it took a REALLY long time with me) to get tired of doing nothing.  What do they say? "Be careful what you wish for"?  Or to turn it around -  

"Be careful what you complain about."

Tomorrow I start a new job.  Back to the ol' 9 to 5 (actually, 9 to 6).  

Sigh.

This is good news. 

I know deep down it is.  I like spending money - and in order to spend, (ideally) you have to make money. In order to make money, you have to have a job.  And hopefully that job is something you don't suck at, hate, or causes bodily/psychological harm.  And that's what I've been handed. On a silver platter, in fact.  A contract position (so I don't feel THAT guilty about hiding the fact that I was 5 months pregnant at the interview), paying exactly what I was making at my last "good" job, working at a small ARCHITECTURAL firm (I put that in all caps b/c my last job was NOT at an architectural firm, and - frankly - it sucked), doing residential and commercial work.  It's pretty much exactly what I was looking for in a job.  And since it's contract, I won't have pesky deductions for 401k's or medical insurance - so in fact, I'll be bringing home MORE than I was a year ago.  Pretty darn awesome.  

I am grateful, don't get me wrong.

So... why do I feel like someone's told me I have to lose my left arm?  OK, maybe that's a little melodramatic.  But it definitely feels like an END.  My Life of Leisure is coming to a close, and although the benefits (I know, I know) outweigh the negatives, I don't think shedding an imaginary tear is overreacting. 

So long, sleeping in.  Bye bye, vegging out.  Adieu, punching at the iPad for hours surfing the net, playing Solitaire and Scrabble, and checking my personal email every 3 minutes.

Hello, again, Career.  

Did you miss me, Commute? (OK, it's only 15 minutes away)

Alas, Appreciation. Why is it you're always the last guest to arrive at the party... just before the cops break it up?

JT

Last weekend, my husband and I decided to get away to Joshua Tree for a couple days.  Partly to extricate me from the apartment that I've been stuck in for weeks straight, day in, day out, unpacking and cleaning etc.  And partly to celebrate our 2-year wedding anniversary.

My husband's maternal side of the family owns a "cabin" just a couple miles outside the entrance to the Monument.  I put cabin in quotes because when I was first dating him, and he'd speak about this cabin - I imagined something much grander than what it ended up being... which is a perfectly respectable, albeit humble, one-bedroom abode.  Hey, it's got indoor plumbing and a garbage disposer in the kitchen sink. I certainly do not take for granted said amenities considering the boony-esque locale of the place.

Actually, I really enjoy our trips out there - so long as we avoid the hot season (May through September), there is definitely something priceless about the ability to just pack an overnight bag, drive a couple hours, and feel like you're thousands of miles from civilization.  The cabin has no TV or telephone.  It's near some great terrain for rock climbing, hiking, and just plain wandering.  And - as I mentioned - it's minutes away (by car) from the Joshua Tree National Park.  Within the Park, there are even more and better opportunities for hiking, camping, and rock climbing.  Not to mention the stunning vistas. 

I think there's something ingrained in all Americans brought up west of the Mississippi where we get weak in the knees just looking at truly awe-inspiring landscapes.  The harsh beauty of crags, boulders, and canyons seems to ignite a primeval tie to the land and how it's shaped our universal subconscious.  Yeah, snow falling on cedars is pretty and dew-dampened meadows are serene - but give us the Red Rocks of Colorado and Utah's magnificent Bryce Canyon any day.  Tahoe/Mammoth vs. Stowe/Sugarloaf is no contest.

Aside from the gorgeous land-based scenery in Joshua Tree, my husband is an avid stargazer.  He has a very nice amateur's telescope and one of our favorite things to do out in the desert is flip through a recent Sky & Telescope or our DK Astronomy book, find constellations, then study a specific star, cluster, or - our favorite - nebula.  This past visit, we enjoyed looking at Jupiter and four of its moons, the Orion nebula, and the Pleiades cluster. We could have sat out there into the wee hours had it not become overcast.  What little we were able to view was nonetheless exciting and thought-provoking.

Landscapes have an uncanny way of grounding you, but only the stars can take your breath away...