Two Years

Similar to groundhogs in February, I've decided to resurface from my unannounced blogging hibernation. The silent treatment was not for lack of noteworthy events or activities over the last several months. In fact, it's been the opposite. It would be stereotypical to say in light of a full calendar I've simply been "too busy" to blog. And actually it's not totally true. I'm blaming it on writers block for lack of a better explanation. There were a few attempts at "postcards" throughout those months, but cohesive thought seemed to have alluded me, leaving every beginning lacking a middle and end. I say this up front so you know I'm coming out of the hiatus tentatively, still feeling like thoughts are somewhat random and putting out a disclaimer that I might disappear again. Also, I've had the opportunity to talk with many of you in person since the last post, so if any of this is redundant I apologize in advance. 

Today is significant for several reasons, the least important being my two year anniversary at LivingSocial. It is however the motivation for my emerging, so here we go.  Before writing this entry I reread my post from last year. Three things are abundantly obvious: 

• I was still intoxicated by the LivingSocial cool aid
• I hadn't yet run out of 27 years worth of vitamin D stored up from the CA sun, and 
• I was using discovery and new adventures to fill the relational tank in my heart

Unfortunately a year later, these observations look much different.

Since my post about layoffs, company morale (at least in Seattle) never fully rebounded (is that even a word?). In the months that followed, many of my colleagues went elsewhere for employment opportunities which left the once socially alive office sadly dwindling. Despite being told how leadership valued their investment in the Seattle office, our doors officially closed at the end of August (as a cost savings measure). Fortunately, LS is an online company so those of us who remain became displaced remote employees instead of unemployed. If I'm honest, initially I was angry and felt like leadership lied to us (despite knowing good business requires tough decisions, I still feel this way to some extent). As time past I realized I needed to let go of what LS had been, both to me in this chapter of life and as vibrantly youthful workplace full of fun. At the end of the day, it's work and the disillusionment created by my surreal beginning has been replaced with a more balanced reality of typical business. Sad but true. I'm now doing my best to embrace the flexibly created by being remote, resulting in much more domestically productive afternoons (i.e. laundry/chores), lunch time walks around Green Lake, mid day workouts, discovery of new coffee shops, and saying yes to setting up a work station any where with Internet connection.  Fortunately this transition to working from home came during the summer when no one wants to be in an office anyway.  Summer time in Seattle is kind of like recess in elementary school.  You wait for it with great anticipation and savor every moment of being outside because you know it won't last long.  Plus Seattle recess has the added bonus of extra hours of sunshine thanks to being so far north.  We'll see how I do when constant cloud cover returns and hours of darkness seem to be never ending.  

Which brings me to comment on my second observation.  Ask anyone who lived through the 2012 summer in the Pacific Northwest and they'll tell you it was a terrible one.  Terrible basically means short.  As in maybe 2 months of sunshine.  Maybe.  Since I had 27 years of fairly constant sunshine vitamins stored up and had yet to experience a full summer here, I didn't know any different.  Then the gloom started again and by last December I began to realize how important vitamin D is to ones happiness.  The immediate aftermath of layoffs at work also occupied this season, so the combination of the two put me into a self diagnosed mini depression.  To make a long, boring and dull story of those winter months short, I didn't feel like myself most of the time.  In part due to needing the magic of vitamin D (which I now take regularly when the sun doesn't make an appearance), and in part coming to terms with what felt like the ending of my fairy-tale-smooth adventure north.  

Enter the final observation.  During that first year I unknowingly built up certain expectations in my daily routine, in exploration, and in newly forming friendships.  When the enjoyment of my routine was altered because of layoffs, the joy I felt in my day to day work life went into hiding.  It was at this point my love for adventure became even more prominent than it usually is.  I realize in hindsight that while my desire to see the world (even the uncharted territory and restaurants in my nearby surroundings) isn't negative, my need for something new was actually a coping mechanism.  As if a new experience would result in a discovery that might make everything whole again. Also, since most adventures are more fun when shared with someone, I looked to my relatively new grouping of friends to join me. In my perfect world, exploration with someone (or multiple someones) you enjoy equals meaningful conversation, deep thoughts pondered, belly aching laughter exchanged, and a place in each others on-going life story.  When my naive idealism met the reality of our imperfect world and new friends didn't become kindred spirits in my preconceived timeline, I became discouraged.  

I say all of this as justification for my writers block and as somewhat of a confession, albeit to myself.  In stark contrast to my first year, the second was severely lacking in thankfulness.  Once all the sparkles wore off and newness of the journey gave way to mundane, my mood shifted. That is not who I want to be.  I desire to be more deeply rooted in Truth so that my outlook and response doesn't alter when circumstances change.  Valley depths will inevitably vary, it's the attitude of ones heart that makes a difference in the journey.  So in light of the looming end to this Seattle "recess", having stocked up on my fair share of UV rays, and embracing the current state of remote employment as well as growing friendships, I am thankful for the tough lessons learned during year two. With refocused perspective, I gratefully step into more realistic expectations for the next 12 months, patiently waiting and attentively listening to the Lord's leading.

Mexican

Here in the Pacific Northwest, good Mexican food is rare.  Which is unfortunate because it happens to be my favorite genre of food.  I learned this the hard way after trying a local spot thinking the reviews on Yelp had to contain at least a little truth.  The real truth is that generally speaking, folks from Washington don't know what good Mexican food tastes like.  So of course they'd think the second rate stand in is great.  I was disappointed.  And not to be dramatic, but do remember thinking "I guess I'd just go without until my next trip home to CA".  That was until my roommate and I discovered a hole in the wall gem.  Actually, it's on wheels so I don't know if it technically qualifies as "hole in the wall", but you know what I mean.  El Camion, which means 'the truck', is aptly named as it's your classic taco truck (permanently) situated in the Home Depot parking lot a few miles north.  I don't usually go for spicy options or pork as my first choice, but their spicy pork burrito is pretty dynamite.  Fish tacos are a close second.  As one would expect from this type of dining experience, their seating is outdoor and not the best so we usually take our bags of deliciousness to go in search of an ambiance to more fitting for our flavorful meal.

Lessons

Since the snow storm currently passing through has literally consumed and crippled the entire Seattle area, I figured my first "real" snow day experiences probably warrant another postcard.  To fill you in, it's been snowing for pretty much two days straight.  Local news channels have dedicated their whole production to weather coverage - don't expect to hear about anything other than snow, driving conditions, falling trees and power outages when you watch.  It's actually kind of comical.  In Seattle it snows like it rains and by that I mean not in big, heavy droplets (or flakes) but a misty dusting.  So I'd say there is easily a foot and a half of  real snow on the ground, maybe a little more. But only a little. Still the city literally shut down.  Our LivingSocial offices are in the heart of the business district downtown and have been closed for two days now, possibly three depending on what happens tomorrow.  I'll admit, it's fun to be told to stay home (even though I did have to work).  And as a result of the weather imposed house arrest I've been confined to the past 48 hours, a few valuable life lessons have been learned.  So even if you're not wondering what they are, I'm going to share them now..

•  If you have errands to run and drive a Honda, do them before it starts snowing.  Or you'll have to wait an extra three days.
• If you live in an active area like Green Lake where people are outside all the time regardless of conditions, get a pair of cross country skis or snow shoes.  It will make fitting in much easier as you circle the lake instead of stumbling around in snowboarding boots.
• Sometimes the weather man actually knows what he's talking about.  Better to play it safe and get groceries just in case. 
• While you're at the groceries store, stock up on snack food.  Not junk snack food, but little munchies.  There's not much else to do when you're stuck inside.
•  Speaking of being inside, don't stay there all day.  When it gets dark around 4:30pm and you no longer have the option of going out, cabin fever will set in.  It's inevitable.  I learned the hard way.
• If you are going to venture out it's best to leave the snow and ice scrapper in the garage instead of inside the car covered in snow.  Rookie mistake.

I'm sure there are more, those are just the lessons that come to mind now.  Today I took my own advice and went for a stroll around Green Lake.  Here are a few of the white washed post cards from my afternoon...