The end of summer
Coming back from the Basque Country this summer was mostly anticlimactic. Compared with how I usually feel the month after my arrival, I can’t say I’m disappointed; I’ll take apathy over four weeks of moping and despair any day of the week. Part of it was leaving my kids behind with my folks for a few days, which somehow made my return seem incomplete, like I was physically in Boise but thanks to my family’s dexterity at Facebook and WhatsApp, still back home otherwise. The other part was hanging out with my Boise friends, who are simply awesome. So I was able to get back into the groove of daily life in America with a chunk (well, two chunks) of me still away. I went back to work only eight hours after landing in Boise, but I felt like the vacation wasn’t quite over yet. The kids finally returned a few days ago, and as ready as I was to squeeze them, I felt bad for my parents and sister, who must now wait another year until it’s their turn again.
For the last two weeks I have been waiting for melancholy to take over, preparing myself to overcome those feelings of sadness that assault me every year before the fall. So far, nothing. Did I, after 18 years, finally make peace with the dichotomy of my life and didn’t even notice? Maybe the weekly psychology sessions turned out to be more fruitful than I thought, giving me the push I needed to accept my situation, to live each of my worlds as separate entities, two bubbles to be enjoyed within their own limits, knowing that blending will only happen on vacation when we fly over or my family comes here to visit.
I must admit, however, that I have been working really hard at changing my outlook on a lot of things: work, responsibilities, kids, relationships, the interaction with friends and family, even the interaction with people I really don’t give a shit about. So maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised that my general attitude eventually caught on with my efforts. It is a work in progress, no doubt about it, but I no longer drag my feet (as long) when I feel something is wrong and it is up to me to make a change. And when it’s not, I deal with those issues in the best possible way. Let’s take my kids and their relationship with my family, for example. We can’t change being apart for eleven months out of the year, but we have the Internet, smartphones, iPads and… Skype! Today, my dad became the proud owner of a sparkling new account on his mobile phone, following in the steps of his wife and daughter. Now, all of them can be individually connected to my kids at pretty much any time.
Other times, however, there is no alternative but to take the ‘Fuck it’ (or its variation, ‘Fuck you’) approach to certain situations. It takes time to reach that point and it is sad when you realize you’re there, but man… is it liberating or what? Negativity lifts and it’s time to put all that energy to work in a more productive way.
So, bring on the ski season!! Kidding, haha. I haven’t changed that much. It’s still me here, you know? An imperfect human being trying her best who, nonetheless, reserves the right to get pissed and blow up if the situation warrants it in the future.
Thanks for passing by: ↓
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