What Now?
Do you find a blank page, an empty canvas, a lump of clay, a pantry full of ingredients, tilled soil in a garden, the open ocean, or [insert your favorite metaphor about starting something from scratch] anxiety inducing or exciting? Maybe a little of both?
Honey, what are you doing?
It’s 6:20 PM on Sunday evening. I’m supposed to be relaxing without a care in the world. I’m staring at this goddamn blank screen. I confess to feeling a little wound up.
Hm.
Our Last Day
Friday was quiet for me. Having bid my colleagues farewell on Wednesday’s team call, the remaining days and hours consisted of a few individual meetings. Emails flew back and forth. I almost got away without shedding a tear. A chat with my “work bestie” broke me.
I quietly listened in on Jack’s final meeting. I got choked up as his coworkers lightly roasted him. The company’s founder sweetly spoke about how Jack was the last hire he had personally made for the Sales Team before handing over the reins to another executive. Jack was really moved by the gestures including a compilation video they made. I was happy for him.
We grabbed lunch and headed to Portland Head Light. It seemed a good location for our symbolic “new start.” I even recorded a video that Jack planned on sending to his work buddies.
For Real… Now What?
So, whatcha’ going to do on Monday?
My initial response was, “I think I have a dentist appointment.” Lo and behold my very exciting cleaning appointment is Tuesday. I was conflating my appointment with Jack’s equally thrilling eye appointment.
I suddenly have a better understanding of my 78-year-old mother’s retirement. When we have our weekly chat she regales me with tales of doctor appointments or the latest deal she scored at Costco. She gets some really great deals at Costco.
Looking Back to Look Forward
Maine
I moved to Maine from Somerville, Massachusetts, in 2005. I had just stepped away from Smart COOKies, a company that one of my dearest friends and I started. Don’t bother looking it up. In short, we created a service in which we used cooking classes as a means of teaching kids both basic culinary skills and academic skills. We sold our service to early childhood programs, recreation departments, and even direct to parents as birthday party “edu-tainment”.
We worked really hard to design and develop the curriculum. My business partner managed all of our marketing and did all of the “business stuff.” We shopped for supplies and led the sessions together. It was truly a passion project. However, our growth wasn’t as rapid as I had envisioned. I was disheartened by the perception of us as a mere “party clown alternative” rather than a groundbreaking educational endeavor.
At the encouragement of my sister and her husband, I relocated to Portland, Maine, to live just 20 minutes away from them. My niece and nephew’s love and laughter filled my heart. Having the kids as a constant in my life gave me a “fix” that relieved my yearning to have children of my own.
I settled in Portland with a job at a small education publisher. I was fortunate to be hired by a boss who I had worked for back in the late ‘90’s at SmarterKids.com. Instead of collaborating with a team of programmers on our patented tool for recommending learning solutions [read: educational books, game, and toys] to parents, I was up to my eyeballs editing and aligning English Language Arts Common Core and Social Studies curricula. It was meaningful work for classrooms that allowed me to combine my teaching skills and knowledge with my interest in writing.
A few months later, I bought a condo on the East End. My friends, a blend of singletons and couples, provided everything I wanted socially and emotionally. While I had been dating some, I embraced the fact that I was 100% happy with the single life I had.
- Job? Check!
- Active social life? Check!
- Home ownership? Check!
- Love of family and friends? Check! Check!
Jack
Happiness hit her like a train on a track
Coming towards her, stuck still, no turning back
I had heard an old wives’ tale “When you stop looking for love, it finds you.” Of course, I thought this was bullshit.
My telling of “our story” differs slightly [or not so slightly] from his. Here is my version nonetheless.
My friend JC rushed into the bar where our book club was about to convene.
Sorry I’m late. I just ran into a guy, Jack, who I went to college with. He’s best friends with my college boyfriend. He talked my ear off. He and his wife are divorcing and he was asking me ‘where are the single ladies at.’
All three of my friends looked right at me.
Nope. Not interested.
I agreed to a Facebook “introduction.” I insisted this was “social networking.” I went so far as to tell him that I was going to meet him for lunch. My plan was to play matchmaker for him.
I was entirely unimpressed to see a gas guzzling Ford F150 pickup truck pull up the street. He had told me that he grew up outside of Philly, so for some reason I was expecting him to drive a Toyota or something less “country.” Lucky for him that his smile and Steve Brady from Sex and the City glasses gave off a warm and fuzzy “nice guy” vibe. And, once I got in the truck he was playing Red Hot Chili Peppers. At least he had good taste in music.
Our lunch on December 20, 2008 included walking around the Old Port on what had to be the coldest day on record. It’s funny how much you can learn about a person when they are shopping for Christmas presents for their parents. I learned Jack’s parents were voracious readers. His dad was an executive and his mom was the family’s COO with a side hustle in real estate. Jack was the oldest of three and had attended boarding school.
Our conversation was so easy.
We headed to Videoport to wrap up the date. [Please bow your head in memory of this beloved institution.] I had prepared an “out” just in case the “this is not a date” turned unbearable. I made plans with my bestie to have dinner and a movie at her place.
Dinner and a Movie
With the movies in hand that Jack helped pick out, I had him drop me off at my friend’s place rather than at mine.
If you were having such a good time, then why on earth didn’t you call me to cancel?
I wasn’t going to be “that woman who blows her girlfriends off for a guy” was my response.
Within 20 minutes, Jack texted. He told me he enjoyed my company. He joked that he was “lonely guy” who was home with his dog.
You call that man RIGHT NOW. Have him come back here. He should have dinner with us and watch that movie. I’ll call TF so he isn’t going to feel weird that he’s the only guy.
It takes a shit-ton of chutzpah for a person to have dinner and watch a movie with three complete strangers. Well, that, my friends, is Jack.
I have zero memory of what the movie was that night. Although, I do remember that the movie we watched two nights later was Forgetting Sarah Marshall. Memorable because the evening culminated in our first kiss.
{insert sappy Awwwwww}
I’ve seen Jack nearly every single day since December 20th, 2008.
Our First Monday of Unemployment
I did somewhat bury the lead of my story. During this Gap Year I aspire to say one or more of the follow statements at the end of every day:
- I laughed.
- I learned something.
- I am satisfied.
In truth, our first Monday’s agenda included the following awe-inspiring activities that will make us the envy of all:
- Jack’s eye appointment
- Laundry (bedding and underwear)
- Shipping Jack’s work computer to his employer
- Making a house/dog/chicken-sitting checklist for the caretakers who’ll watch over things while we are away
- Picking away at the To-Do-List (cleaning closets, installing window screens, replacing a few busted items that have been broken for years and we just keep ignoring like our primary bathroom towel rack)
- Walking at least 10,000 steps (we did 15,500+)
- Dinner with my sister, brother-in-law, and nephew
See? I told you that you’d be envious.
And All That Jazz…
We aren’t as boring as the above suggests. But, most of you would have guessed as much.
We head out early tomorrow morning to New Orleans.
JazzFest has always been on my bucket list. We were fortunate to attend in 2019 and had decided well before this Gap Year that we would be back this May.
My next installment will report on the music, the food, and all that jazz.
More to come…