I think I suck at the work-life balance thing. I'm trying to get it, but when it comes right down to it, everything that I do outside of work is somehow driven by my desire for this amazing career. I'm a self-diagnosed workaholic, and you know what, I'm okay with that. For now.
Actually, let me clarify. I'm rocking the work-life balance thing, for the most part. I'm making some great friends, exploring this city, making a point to have a life outside of work. It is the (potential) love part of the work-life balance that I can't seem to wrap my head around.
The thing that gets me (sometimes) is when I think about dating. I've been "out of the game" so to speak for awhile now, probably longer than I care to admit. And looking back on the past two years (oops, there it is), I have noticed a trend. I tend to make excuses to not be interested in having a romantic element in my life.
I was in school, finishing my degree, finally listening to my mom when she said "Sydney, you gotta slow it down with the dating stuff, you just get distracted", planning my move to Chicago, trying to save money, getting up early, whatever I could think of to not commit to having a hint of romance in my life. In April, when I decided to move to Chicago to really do this, I put up a wall. There was no point in me getting involved with anyone at the time – I was moving across the country soon, why would I start a relationship that I would inevitably have to end?
I told myself I wasn't getting involved until I had my feet planted firmly on the ground in (insert city here) and could support myself. The last thing I want is to be this struggling intern (at the risk of unemployment in 3 months) that is all kinds of needy. I want to do this on my own. Make a name for myself. Be independent, and not just a state of mind (because I'm already there on that one), but really independent. Then I'll be ready.
You know, I say that, and then I can't help but think it might be cool to have someone involved in this whole process. And then I think about how I've been out of the game for so long that I wouldn't even know it if someone was trying to date me, because at this point in the process, I'm still new to the city so I think everyone is just really friendly. Am I missing out on something because I don't know the signs? Have the rules changed dramatically since my last relationship?
The glorious thing about moving to a new city is that I can be very selective about who I surround myself with. I'm done with the people who are bitter, angry and just plain rude. There's no reason to keep negative energy in my space. I left Florida to rid myself of the nay-sayers and those who thought I was "lucky". For the LAST TIME, this is not luck. Everything you see happening here is part of a delicate plan that, with opportunity and preparedness, is falling into place perfectly.
Which, at the end of the day, is why I'm fine to come home and just sit in my chair for hours, staring out at the lake. I've always said "if it's supposed to happen, it will". I still believe that. But sometimes I get this little bird on my shoulder that tells me to open my eyes and make things happen.
I guess the conclusion is, when it comes to my work-life balance, I'm making so many moves for me and my career, that when it comes to the "life" part, the love part of life, I need someone to make the moves.
(h/t to Ben Smithee for getting me thinking about the balance)
Actually, let me clarify. I'm rocking the work-life balance thing, for the most part. I'm making some great friends, exploring this city, making a point to have a life outside of work. It is the (potential) love part of the work-life balance that I can't seem to wrap my head around.
The thing that gets me (sometimes) is when I think about dating. I've been "out of the game" so to speak for awhile now, probably longer than I care to admit. And looking back on the past two years (oops, there it is), I have noticed a trend. I tend to make excuses to not be interested in having a romantic element in my life.
I was in school, finishing my degree, finally listening to my mom when she said "Sydney, you gotta slow it down with the dating stuff, you just get distracted", planning my move to Chicago, trying to save money, getting up early, whatever I could think of to not commit to having a hint of romance in my life. In April, when I decided to move to Chicago to really do this, I put up a wall. There was no point in me getting involved with anyone at the time – I was moving across the country soon, why would I start a relationship that I would inevitably have to end?
I told myself I wasn't getting involved until I had my feet planted firmly on the ground in (insert city here) and could support myself. The last thing I want is to be this struggling intern (at the risk of unemployment in 3 months) that is all kinds of needy. I want to do this on my own. Make a name for myself. Be independent, and not just a state of mind (because I'm already there on that one), but really independent. Then I'll be ready.
You know, I say that, and then I can't help but think it might be cool to have someone involved in this whole process. And then I think about how I've been out of the game for so long that I wouldn't even know it if someone was trying to date me, because at this point in the process, I'm still new to the city so I think everyone is just really friendly. Am I missing out on something because I don't know the signs? Have the rules changed dramatically since my last relationship?
The glorious thing about moving to a new city is that I can be very selective about who I surround myself with. I'm done with the people who are bitter, angry and just plain rude. There's no reason to keep negative energy in my space. I left Florida to rid myself of the nay-sayers and those who thought I was "lucky". For the LAST TIME, this is not luck. Everything you see happening here is part of a delicate plan that, with opportunity and preparedness, is falling into place perfectly.
Which, at the end of the day, is why I'm fine to come home and just sit in my chair for hours, staring out at the lake. I've always said "if it's supposed to happen, it will". I still believe that. But sometimes I get this little bird on my shoulder that tells me to open my eyes and make things happen.
I guess the conclusion is, when it comes to my work-life balance, I'm making so many moves for me and my career, that when it comes to the "life" part, the love part of life, I need someone to make the moves.
(h/t to Ben Smithee for getting me thinking about the balance)
