G: A Random Reentry into Writing

It's been a hot minute since I blogged.  Approximately 2,270,880 of them in fact.  A lot has happened in 4+ years and nearly all of it for the better, BUT this post has nothing to do with any of that.  

Instead, I present to you with a random conglomerate of disjointed thoughts I've had over the past few months, mostly DC-related.  A thorough write-up of my first six months in the District is halfway drafted and will go up at a later time though, so for now enjoy the smattering.

But first, an explanation of why I decided to pick back up on this blog.  "But I don't care!" you say.  No worries!  It's conveniently indented for you to easily ignore, so scroll away!

My mind swirls with fractured ideas, opinions, revelations and questions on a second-by-second basis.  This may be common for everyone.  It could be unique to me alone.  I doubt either extreme is true, all I know is how hard it is to keep up with everything.  “I like how he/she handled that situation.  How can I incorporate that trait into who I am?  Or should I at all?  Maybe it works for her but wouldn’t for me.  How would I handle that situation?  Why is that?  Does that fit with my core being?  With who I want to be?  Who do I want to be?  What if I want to be a little bit of multiple people?  Oooh I smell pizza.  I want pizza.  What are the defining differences between each pizza chain's ingredients?  Sometime I should order one of each to do important research and analysis to find out.  Aaron would probably do that with me.  That reminds me, I was going to text him about...  Wait, what I was thinking about before pizza and Aaron?  It's gone.”  Not all of my thought trains are that selfishly introspective.  Probably 50% though.  Which I’m becoming more okay with as I age.  Selfishness is essential to being truly yourself.

I digress.  Back to my point.

These thoughts are difficult to sift through.  It takes me a ton of time and concerted effort to develop coherent opinions, executable actions, firm stances, etc. on almost everything.  This constant uncertainty of my own thoughts leads to feeling like a bumbling idiot when one of these topics is brought up.  “I know I have fairly insightful thoughts on this subject, but what are they again?  AHHH too much silence will make them think I'm an idiot!  [spouts nonsense]  Ah shit I think I changed my mind on that.  Now I get to put my foot in my mouth.  Sweet."  Talking with my therapist back in the day helped clear the clutter and connect the dots.  I would vocalize something I’d never consciously thought before and go, "Huh.  That makes perfect sense.  Who knew I liked/wanted/hated that."

Bottom line: Maybe this blog can be a means to the same end and help me become a better communicator.  So I'd like to start writing more to sort out my thoughts.  TBD if it'll work, but worth a shot.

Now for a fountain of brain vomit.

I spend a lot of time in my own thoughts.  Never in my life have I considered myself a daydreamer, I’m way too practical for that, right?  False.  It’s all I do.  At work.  On my commute.  At home.  On weeknights/weekends I tell myself I need a mental break from the stresses of the daily grind, so I’ll binge a show I’ve seen seven times or kill brain cells at a bar with friends or do household chores or listen to music while scrolling through god-knows-what on my phone.  None of those are bad things to do, and this isn’t me saying I’ll quit any of them.  The issue lies in how low-stress my daily grind is.  

• I wake up and (maybebutprobablynot) stumble down to the gym to spend an episode of Last Week Tonight on the elliptical or all five Candy Crush lives on a bike.  
• I have 25-40 minutes of commute each way where the most strenuous mental exercise is getting off the Metro at the right stop.
• I work eight hours a day in a position where the first four months consisted of reading about whatever I felt like and attending meetings over topics above my head.  (Only recently have those situations improved.)  Even in those meetings, my energy's spent trying to decode what’s going on, catching myself daydreaming down some rabbit-hole, and occasionally trying to keep my eyes open.  
• I’ll go to my bartending gig, where I’m beleaguered by pouring the perfect amount of foam and making change for a $20.  

Where’s the stress I need so desperately to escape and recover from?  More importantly, where is my thirst for worthwhile mental stimulation?  Given a schedule that could be done with a butter knife, why aren’t I driven to make strides toward becoming a machete?  Or at least a steak knife.  I have grand ideas of things I want to be good at but take zero steps toward them in my free time.  Journaling (like this), Spanish, ASL, yoga, biking, reading, real electrical engineering, DIY projects, financial tracking, investing, home improvement…  All topics that I frequently tell myself, “Man, it’d be super cool/handy/exciting to add that to your repertoire, let’s start tonight since you have nothing going on.”  If only I’d put as much time or energy into any one of those as I have in watching Rick & Morty.  I need to get better at this, but I’ve proven that it won’t be due to self-motivation.  Last month Duolingo taught me some German basics for nine days, and then my streak broke and I haven't been back since.  Wah wah wahhh.

No idea how I ever lived without public transit.  Metro.  Uber.  Bikeshare.  Walking.  My choice to leave the car in KC was a lucky stroke of brilliance.  I hadn’t ridden a bike in over a decade and now I can get anywhere I want on two wheels without having to invest in my own.  The Metro is way better than long-tenured Washingtonians give it credit for.  UberPool is awkward but quick, easy and cheap.  And I’m fairly certain my legs have morphed into solid muscle.  There isn’t even bone in there anymore.

Everyone in DC sweats during the summer.  A lot.  I’m finally among my own.

Commute attire != work attire.  Fancy suits and tennis shoes or flip flops.  Soaking wet hair and professional-looking makeup.  No makeup at all and an obviously pricey dress.  You do you on your way in and zero judgement is passed.

DC loves to drink.  I thought I imbibed too often before, but geez.  Someone told me early on that the city is full of functioning alcoholics and they're weren't wrong.  It’s a good thing I’m not trying to lose weight.  Not only are happy hours often, but boozy brunches are a weekend religion.  With a yes-man attitude and employment at a beer garden, it’s not all that surprising I guess.  It's wound down as I've settled in and I anticipate that trend will continue into the winter, but YOLO if not.

I’m better at making friends than I expected.

Diversity is beautiful.  I’ve known this for ages but appreciate the sentiment more now than ever. No one in DC is actually from DC. Everyone has a story.  I love hearing them.

Distance is a unit of time, not distance, in big cities.

My understanding of the nuclear security enterprise, policy, and the U.S. government has grown a hundred-fold.  Today a property manager told me, "Let me know if you need help negotiating your lease!"  And if you need help with understanding your nuclear stockpile I'll happily return the favor!  My expertise is becoming very unhelpful to most of the world.  Sorry guys.

The nuclear world is extensive.  Beyond weapons, there are sectors dedicated to nonproliferation, deterrence, nuclear reactors, power plants, communication, command and control, etc.  I’d really like to make a tree with all the different facets and branches and players in this world.  It would be messy, but a cool visual.  I’ll probably get to that right after I become fluent in ASL.

Uprooting my life was shockingly easy.  I’ll give the corporate travel package some credit for this since I didn’t have to worry about the logistics or financial impacts.  I’ve kept in touch with the majority of KC contacts, I’ve been home (admittedly fewer times than anticipated), it didn’t take more than a couple weeks to feel like I belonged in DC.  This was my first big move – something I used to say I’d only do if someone was going with me – and it was infinitely less scary than I made it out to be in my mind.  New goal: live overseas for a stint.

The best way to assimilate into a new setting is to act like a local as best you can.  Not only does it fool those around you, you fool yourself as well and your comfort level blossoms.

I took KCI for granted.  Living in the center of the country is a dream for flying.  Now I have 8 hour travel days to get to Albuquerque and many more indirects to get anywhere.

Networking!  Gets you into “full” seminars.  Introduces you to new friends.  Makes cold-calls way less awkward.  Helps you connect the dots in an ever-shrinking world.

Kansas Citians know how to represent.  I’ve lost count of the number of “Rock Chalks” or “Go Royals/Chiefs” I’ve yelled at strangers because of their attire, but it averages two or three times a week.

East Coasters are comically unaware of anything west of Virginia.  Someone argued with me that Kansas wasn’t in the Midwest.  Another couldn’t point it out on a map.  “Wait, Kansas City isn’t in Kansas?”

This is an awkward end to an awkward post.