Lousy Smarch Weather

Snow.  Rain.  Freeze. Melt. Repeat.  That's been this entire month.  For a city that claims to get the most sun of any city in Ontario, Thunder Bay is not living up to its Wikipedia page.  On one hand, I'm thankful to have been spared the usual -40C daytime temps in January and February.  On the other hand, March sucks.  And all the locals agree, I would be foolish to take off my snow tires until the last week of April or sometime in early May.  [sobs]

In other news, my work is going really well.  I feel a level of confidence in line with my developmentally appropriate level of competence.  It's new and good.

So things are holding just fine.  No other shoe has dropped, although there is still 5 months for footwear to fall to earth.  Oh, and I got a new fancy uppy-downy desk.  So my shoulder is also starting to stabilize.  Life is... good.  I even saw my partner for 44 hours this weekend.

I guess it's time to step up my looking-for-a-job game? 

Love,
Psyche

All About the Climb

I've been incommunicado despite having passed residency-hump-day.  That's right.  I'm more than halfway done the internship and I'm relieved and terrified in equal measure.  I've begun applying to jobs with no firm leads yet and still less certain about what I want to do with my life than a kindergardener who can't decide between astrophysicist and pretty-kitty.  Something in psychology, I guess?

I've also made a couple of changes lately, taken a couple of healthy risks.  And regardless of the healthiness inherent in those risks, have been fighting cold viruses and the bitter cold of northeastern Ontario.  Damn you, winter dryness and constant nosebleeds!  Oh, dear reader, I feel like something moderately profound is happening... maybe something semi-profound or at least a slight rank above amateurfound.  It's hard to put in to words and I sometimes feel a bit of Shining-syndrome up here that make me wonder if anything is meaning to anyone but me and if in August Mr. Husband will come to find me frozen in a snowbank watching the Toni awards on my iPhone.  But I think I'm making progress.  I don't cry for no reason as much as I used to.  That seems like progress.

I faced my fears in the hearing last month and can honestly report it felt... a bit disappointing.  I did really well and feel proud of myself.  But it was not nearly the fight it was the first time around so I had a lot of left over adrenaline that had no where to go afterwards.  So I channeled it into some conference presentations and now some front-line social workers likely think I am more vehemently passionate about chat counselling than is reasonable for a woman with only two hands.  But it's fine.

It's fine.

Everything's fine.

I'm just not used to that.

So I breathe and breathe again, and continue to realize there is still air even after the nightmares.  And the weight that used to sit on my chest as I slept has fallen to the side for now.  What's left is residual nervousness, just tiny little terrors that if I let my guard down that's when... when the big awful something will happen again.  But for now it's not, and for a while it's not, and even though I am alone up here, it's not, and I'm not.

And maybe I'm befriending fear and maybe I'm kidding myself.  But maybe I am really breathing in and out without assistance.  We'll see.  For now it's fine.

Love Psyche