November

I spent the first week of November in Memphis for a work conference. I had been there once before, also for work, and saw nothing but the inside of my hotel room and the Rhodes Career Center. This time around I got to see a bit more of the city, including the Civil Rights Museum where MLK Jr. was shot. And I spent three days with coworkers from all across the country, some known and many new. This coming off the heels of an announcement that my current manager would be leaving her position at the end of December, with the possibility of a long vacancy.

In the midst of this excitement, I lost my temper, hard, twice. The first time was in the security line at the Houston airport. I told the TSA agent waving me through that I was going to opt out of the scanner. He said, "no, this isn't what you think it is, it's fine," like I was some sort of confused child, and I snapped. He made me wait unnecessarily long for the pat-down and I glared at him the entire time, fuming. The second time was in a Memphis restaurant. I just asked if I could substitute something, anything, for the coleslaw, and it turned into a fiasco. I did not want a fiasco. I didn't even care that much about the stupid coleslaw. But when I saw the fiasco coming and tried to reverse course ("nevermind nevermind!"), it was too late: "So, lady, what do you WANT?"

On the plane ride home, I wrote a few reminders to myself about the resources at my disposal. On changes and choices, I wrote: "Don't decide. Don't even think about it. Pray, wait, stall, stall, stall, stall, ask for help, wait, and do the next right thing."

I celebrated Thanksgiving in San Francisco with Josh, where we were blessed to spend some time with friends, including those who drove up from LA to spend time with us. Sitting around the table with this group of old and new loved ones I found myself thinking again: stall, stall, stall, don't decide, don't DO anything, just sit in this moment for today and drink it up.

And I've been thinking a lot about how to reply to people who ask me in all the different forms: "SOOOOOO what's next??? What are you going to do? Where are you going to live? Who's moving where? When are you going to decide?" Maybe they are just being polite and maybe also people want to know what to expect, and they think that you should, too. What's the plan, lady? What are you having?

I don't know, is generally my reply. Something great, somewhere, yes, and I'm not in any hurry.