moving on

Moving on.

The other day, I sat down with a psychologist as part of a never-ending battery of pre-employment testing-- just another event in the vocational equivalent of The Hunger Games, in potential and long-overdue entrée into a big, grown-up career. I sat across from her, hoping to keep my demeanor completely even, not hinting at my understandable nervousness, or resorting to the silly jokes I was certain she'd immediately see through as a coping mechanism. She shuffled a stack of papers, and finally spoke.

"Your intelligence is off the charts," she said without so much as a change in inflection, glancing at her notes.

"Thank you," I blushed.

"No, it truly is. It wasn't a compliment. These are the results from the test you took."

I tried not to peer too eagerly at the numbers and letters scrawled on the piles of paper. "What did I get?" I asked.

"You were well into the 99th percentile. I'm just curious," she continued. "It says that you never completed your college degree. Doesn't it frustrate you, being so bright, and not having a bachelor's?"

Loaded question, right off the bat. Right where everything hurts the most. How emphatically could I possibly say yes?

"Of course it does," I said, maintaining my composure. "It's something I plan to rectify."

"Good. You need to be doing something more with your life. Even if it's a small step at a time."

That re-ignited that little fire that's always burned in me. My days have been whirlwind-- life doesn't slow down for a second. But despite the chaos, despite the aftermath of so many meaningful things-- I find myself a little more upbeat, simply because I've started doing more with my life. I've started doing things for me.

First, I am back on my healthy lifestyle change (Goonies never say diet). I'm slowly getting my body-- my other weak point-- exactly where I want it to be. I stepped on the scale yesterday, and despite having taken a couple of weeks off due to a mixture of Easter and the emotional spin-cycle, I am only up a couple of pounds.

Easy fix. They will be off by tomorrow. Moving on.

I decided today that I would get rid of my TV. Bill had been looking to buy one for his new place, and I told him, quite simply, that he could have the one we had shared. There are a number of reasons why this is a good thing for both of us: it will mean more to him than it does to me, and it will save him the money and the trouble of buying a new one. It will give me back some much-needed living space. Most importantly, it will give me back the little free time that I do have in pursuits that are more meaningful to me and to the dreams I have deferred. I will get more reading and writing in without the distraction. It will make the gym that much more appealing. That's a step.

I signed up for my third annual Book Expo America conference in May, which is essentially my Christmas, or something like heaven to a bibliophile. Nerd-vana, if you will. This year, instead of going as a passive member of a writer's organization, I am going as an active writer-- a blogger. Forward.

It turns out that when your life falls apart-- and I shattered mine on purpose, not feeling quite at home within it-- you're given the unique opportunity to rebuild something different, and perhaps, something beautiful. I am going through a lot right now, and I can't see the whole picture yet. But I'm on the cusp of something, and that is what has been keeping me going.

For far too long, I have been working far too hard-- running in circles, wondering why the scenery never changed.

Now, even if it is merely that one small step at a time, I feel confident in my stride. That's how we move on.