6 month check up
I call this my “something worth-while” post – the more personal, self-revealing side that you rarely see on this blog any more. I’ve become so accustomed to the quick and easy posts – the kind that are, well, exactly as I described them – easy. I can’t write more than a few paragraphs before my journalist training kicks in, voicing that if I write any more the reader will become disinterested, thus entering the wonderful world of “cursory reading.” After all, people rarely read beyond the lead of a newspaper article any way (a sad truth we share among us journos).
But some thoughts have been brewing and what a better audience to share them with. I’ve lived in D.C. for six months now – six! – and its brought many highs and oh so many lows like every major life transition. But it’s D.C., MY D.C., the city I fell in love with my sophomore year of college. The city that Graham and I set our hearts on when choosing our next big adventure. We swore to each other that we’d do everything we could to live here, even if it meant bussing tables for a few months (ahem).
But what’s most surprising to me throughout all of this, is that D.C. is not the same city I fell in love with three years ago. Three years ago this place was a journalism wonderland. I drank the kool aide, and with it brought some of the most amazing journalistic opportunities. And that, my friends, was my association with D.C. and what I carried with me throughout my remaining two years of college.
Somehow, I thought that I would have a similar experience the second time around, and it couldn’t be father from the truth. I wait on people all day long. Most of them are just looking for a bite to eat, but some of them, oh my gosh, some of them are what author and veteran server Steve Dublanica calls “socially maladjusted psychopaths.”
I’ll throw in another “oh my gosh” because – oh my gosh, do I have stories. So many in fact, that Graham has to silence me after a few minutes whenever the topic of my job comes up with others. And this is my life, day in and day out – the restaurant business – the LAST thing I ever thought I’d be doing six months into our new move.
But this life has brought about new interests and new loves – many of which revolve around food – which is something that Graham and I both share. This is our city now, not mine. And it has nothing to do with journalism.
And I love that.