I woke up to a thunderstorm this morning.  There’s nothing I like better than lying in bed listening to the sound of thunder and rain on the roof over my head.  (Unless maybe it’s the sound of rain on the tent overhead.)  I love thunderstorms; it’s as simple as that.  One of the things I missed most when living in Alaska or Portland, Oregon or Rock Springs, Wyoming, or wherever I was that wasn’t here was the lack of a good-old Midwestern thunderstorm.  The kind of storm that causes the house to shake from thunder, with lightning that flashes like a strobe light, with rain that comes down so hard and fast it feels like someone poured a five gallon bucket of water over your head when you step into the storm, soaking you to the core in an instant.  Nature is awe-inspiring.

All that to say that I was late to work this morning.  Little F slept in late, and Big E and I casually talked over our morning coffee when all of a sudden I was late for work!  The work day for the majority of the staff in my building begins at 8am and that’s what time I got here this morning.  (I’m usually in at 7:30.)  I was walking into the building and saw person after person mindlessly shuffling to the elevators, stepping on board, and getting whisked up to their offices.  It was soul-crushing.  I felt like a character in a cross between Brazil, Metropolis (Fritz Lang’s version), and 1984.  Fun way to start the work day, huh?

This has been building for quite some time now, (feeling like a character in a depressing, dystopian movie, not the thunderstorm) and I’m not quite sure what to do about it.

Wait.  That’s not right.  I have small ideas for things I want to do.  No, I take that back.  I have big ideas for what I want to do.  I just need to find a way to put those ideas into action.  And I need to think about what is best for my family, not just me.  I’m taking baby steps in the direction I want to go; selling the single-girl house definitely helps with that.  I just get impatient and want end results NOW forgetting that most of the time the journey is the exciting part.

For the first seven or so years out of college my “career” consisted of me doing whatever I wanted to do, going wherever I wanted to go, and staying there for as long as it was fun.  I wouldn’t change any of those years but I will say that living a lifestyle like that doesn’t set you up to enter the “real world” very easily.  So when I moved back to my hometown and bought my house I did so thinking that I would live there for a couple of years and then move on to my next Great Adventure.  Little did I know that I kind of enjoyed being around friends I’d known since high school and in some cases elementary school.  Little did I know that I would meet Big E and that we’d get married and become parents.  Little did I know that it’s nice to have extended family close by when your kids are young.

But I’ve always had this Dr. Jekyll/ Mr. Hyde thing going on.  Adventure vs. Stability.  Seeing the world vs. Roth IRA contributions.  Vagabond lifestyle vs. Health insurance.  It’s enough to drive a person batty, weighing those decisions.  Well, this person at least.  So for the past eight years I’ve been suppressing my urge to flee, ignoring my increasingly restless and itchy feet.  I’ve been stationary and for the most part happy.  But these past few months… these past few months have been difficult for me.  I’ve been feeling stifled and stuck.  Not in my marriage or in my family life, just stuck in my job and trying to decide if I can be a responsible adult and still follow my need to be… untethered.

There’s more to come on this topic, I’m sure.

Hi-diddly-dee, it’s the dirt bag life for me…

On a lighter note, what’s a blog post without a picture?  Here’s a throwback to our honeymoon when Big E and I went backpacking in the Tetons.This sums up some of the things I miss: hanging out in the mountains, getting dirty, being in nature.  Although I don’t miss the black flies which plagued us at lower elevations during the first part of our hike.

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