Well, it's "costing" me data to use the internet so I haven't blogged much. As usual, there is a lot to blog about, but I don't want to use all my data up since I've been pushing & exceeding that limit since I arrived a month ago. It's been a month and I'm still in this low end motel. It's not horrible and I developed some routines, but some days it just. doesn't. work.
It's like living in a low end motel can be the last straw from a very long day. It's that there might be 7 ragged construction workers hanging out on the sidewalk smoking all night long, teens giggling and yelling in the walkways at all hours, creeps who cross boundaries and start asking me my name (fortunately, he moved on) and more. I go to and from work decked out in my favorite Anthropologie sweaters and skirts, carrying my green smoothie containers and having some place to go. I don't spend all night out on the walkways smoking my cigarettes and yelling about how I got kicked out of a room and now they won't let me "back in" to get my phone charger. lol
Sooo ... that's been this experience.
It's been a month now that I'm back in the pacific NW. My skin and hair are getting softer and smoother. It rains so much here. So much. More than I remember the pacific NW raining. It doesn't bother me, but it's the cold rain that I left a decade ago when I welcomed the idea of warmer rains and never looked back. I'm not freezing all the time and it really feels like spring around here. I am absolutely stunned by the amazing scenery everywhere I drive and go. It's simply amazing. It's the backdrop to everything I do in this area, but it doesn't take much to notice that I'm staring at huge mountains even while I'm walking across a parking lot. While at a light this morning on my way to work, I took notice of the tree covered mountains in front of me. What was striking was how many shades of green were present with various types of trees providing a visual texture.
The housing situation is on the forefront of my mind. I'm beginning to torture myself about it. I've decided that I want what I can't have. That is never a good place for somebody like me. I will have what others tell themselves they can't have. I want to live in the town that has the least amount of realty inventory. I have told myself that and now I want it. There are only 5 houses for sale. I made our first offer on a house 30 hrs after it was listed for sale and it went to a different bidder (who offered less total money, but more of a down payment). So frustrating and rude. lol Tonight/tomorrow morning, I'm making another offer on another house in the same community. I doubt there will be a bidding war because this one has been up for sale for a few weeks. I want this town bad enough and although this property wasn't my dream when I initially walked through it, I can put it all in perspective now. This property will do us just fine, although it will need a lot of updating to make it "perfect." Living in this motel presents to me what I don't like: living really close to other people. I love working with people and being with people I enjoy, but I like my downtime.
It's good for me to have projects and there will be many projects in this house.
As if I don't have enough. One huge project is my job right now. I love my job more than I have loved any job ever. It is truly something only a midwife could dream about. The people are great, the space is great and the patients are great. The other midwife was bringing some pictures in to the office to have hung and when I left our office I thought, "yes. We have created a midwife space. This is what it looks like." Two owl pillows sit out in our patient space and both the other midwife's desk and mine look similar. I start my first assist program in about 3-4 weeks, I am completing some of the pre-structure requirements for the launch of our centering prenatal program in a few months and I have been very busy creating our visits and philosophy. This morning, I came to work and asked for a process change to divert low risk new ob's to the midwives (the ones that weren't assigned to a MD yet or didn't have a preference). No response yet on that email because I know that although I've planted the seed, process change can be slow. It's very likely that is where American obstetric healthcare is headed, so we might as well lead the pack.
I'm not a mainstream person.
And, when I see all the new housing going up and how closely spaced the buildings are, I am forced to make a decision about how and where to live. It's simply easier to live in the newer buildings. They are closer to where we go on a regular basis, have sidewalks for walking (sometimes to services or even to bike to work), are more strategically placed for short commutes and all of them have state of the art appliances and interior decor to stun.
But what will become of all these buildings in 20 years? What will they look like and who will live in them?
Where I am supposed to sit with my coffee and listen to the birds on the morning I don't have to be at work? Where am I supposed to put my garden ... where it won't be on the pathway my dog uses to run around and get exercise? How can I teach my children the value of preserving our environment when they don't have meaningful personal experiences to teach them the value of it? How important is it to them to grow up with trees?
It's going to cost so much now but maybe in the long term it will pay off.
These are the questions I have faced for the past month, as the escalated spring real estate season is upon me. I'm homeless in a low end motel, so I'm visiting these questions often. Perhaps my answer is in the fact that I'm bothered to the core by living here. I'm also fairly bothered by the fact that I really love having a space and a home and everything is still spread out everywhere. My medical/nursing textbooks are still in Ohio in some storage unit. I've asked a lot of questions, find myself trying to answer them and sometimes I answer them differently. I've cried a lot since being here but not from true sorrow over the big life questions, but because I'm at the end of my rope for being displaced.
I want to see my kids yelling to each other in a yard, my dog running around in the yard with her tongue hanging out, my husband parking his pick-up at the house and I want to pet my cats.
Sometimes, at these houses I tour, I can see them all.