(While holding a beet...) Sometimes, life's just unbeetable!

I should start out by simply apologizing for my lack of blogging, but the real world takes a lot out of you! My eyelids have developed an automatic timer set like a garage door to shut at 9:30 p.m. And I struggle to keep them open any longer. In college, I always looked forward to a real job with an actual schedule and consistent paycheck. What was I thinking? Sure per diem life had it’s perks. When the phone rang and you recognized the number as work, you could simply let it ring, wait for the voice mail message to come up, then contemplate whether you want to go in. Of course if you waited long enough to call back, they typically already found someone. And in the off-chance they hadn’t, you could still say you have to bring your cat to Petco and couldn’t miss the appointment. In the full-time work world, too bad if Fluffy needs her nails trimmed, you’re going to work. Granted my life as an AmeriCorps ‘whatever’ (We’re still working on the right word to follow AmeriCorps. Typically we fill in the blank with ‘person.’) doesn’t nearly come with the hardships of triple checking your timesheet, but it can get complicated. Especially considering I have 4 separate places to journal my day to day tasks and 3 places to fill in my hours. But it’s all worth it. I absolutely love what I’m doing -- just don’t ask me what I’m doing. It’s rather difficult to describe and a bunch of miscellaneous jargon typically pours out of my mouth if you get me going. In a nut shell, I’m trying to motivate people to get excited about taking care of themselves and be healthy. How? By making really awesome posters and thinking of creative ways to convince people that sugar free chocolate tastes just better than Ghiradelli. Good luck, right? But each day, despite never ending computer issues and CDEMS (our chronic disease management program… aka, my new best friend) drama, I realize more and more how I am in exactly the right place. I absolutely adore the people I work with and I never go more than 10 minutes without laughing. My super supportive supervisor Susie (Hows that for alliteration?) always keeps me smiling and finding ways for me to get the most out of my experience. I really couldn’t ask for a better mentor or site supervisor. She even gets my sarcasm and my puns… I’ve been gradually working them into conversation. I’m not sure Pomeroy’s truly ready for the KFo jokes. It took Suzanne a good minute or so for her to get my “Hay! It’s your birthday!” card (it had a picture I took of a hay bale on front). Speaking of Pomeroy, I want to mention a little side note. So last week I went up to Spokane (one of the bigger cities in Washington) to get Edward serviced at the Volvo dealership. I dropped him off and decided to explore the area. You know, soak in the streetlights, commercialized city blocks, and graffitied underpasses -- all things I thought I missed. Thought, key word. Now, I can navigate anyone on the T and get you to most places in Boston. Typically, I get cities. Well if you saw me in Spokane you would have thought I’d never stepped foot in more than a 12 block town.  Being in a new place with no idea where to go lead me to require calling Michele, desperate to find my way back to the dealership. And I still got lost. I guess living in a place where there’s only one Main Street causing you to lose your sense of direction. Each step I kept saying, “I just want to be back in Pomeroy.” But this wasn’t the only thing I realized. As I walked down the city streets, I found myself in an almost meditative state. I really took the time to observe my surroundings and take in everything around me, and it hit me. For so long I’ve craved to live in the city, Cambridge specifically. I wanted to be in a place where everything could be accessed out my front steps and I depended on public transportation (Because the T is so dependable... insert sarcasm). I always considered big cities as a place where the need for volunteers surpassed places like Pomeroy. Hence why I applied for AmeriCorps positions in major cities around the states (and somehow Pomeroy fell into that category… hmmm). Yet as I walked down a street I couldn’t point out on a map, I realized I don’t belong in a big city. At least not with what I’m doing now. Sure the need’s great in those overpopulated areas, but it’s equally as necessary in places where your closest neighbors lives a quarter mile down the road… in both directions. And the thing is, when you live in a city you merely become another person walking down the street. In a small community, people wave and say hi even when they don’t know you. You hardly find that in a city. It’s just the opposite. Avoiding eye contact is almost regarded as a social norm because that typically means you’re too into the podcast playing on your iphone or stopping to talk would make you late for your daily ten word latte order at Starbucks -- no whip. And I won’t deny that when I’m in Boston, I sometimes get zoned out with my iPod in one hand and tall soy chai in the other. But when you’re trying to create change and engage with a community as big as Boston, you can easily get lost and become just another person among the crowd waiting for the ‘walk’ signal. That’s why I love where I am, and I knew this from my interview. I wasn’t just another applicant, or even Kathryne, I was Kate. And since I’ve arrived, everyone treats me that way. Already I feel so appreciated for the work I’m doing, and really I haven’t even done much. And one advantage, a large chai costs less than a tall chai at Starbucks and I’d debate that it tastes better too. So I might not be in a happenin’ or trendy place and I’m more concerned about a cougar or wolf attacking me, I’m okay with that. Essentially, I have everything I need at my disposal. Granted it takes a little longer to get there, but in reality it probably takes less time than waiting for a train or bus. All in all, I can’t complain. I mean, I even talk to our doctor about hiking and shopping at thrift stores. Seriously, the fact he acknowledges me and knows my name floors me. I’m used to developing tremors and heart palpitations whenever required to talk with a doc, anticipating they’ll either blow me off or say, “who are you, again?” So despite having to do a mental check every so often to remind myself, “Yes, this is real life,” at least I won’t be woken by sirens or neighbors music… just a cat’s “meow” so loud at 4:57 a.m. it wakes you out of a sound sleep. True story.