I have about 6 weeks until awesome

About 6 weeks ago, I lay in my hospital bed and said "Seriously? This is ridiculous. You are done being sick. You are done with excuses. You need to get your shit together." Right then and there, I gave myself until the end of the year to figure out what the hell I want to do, and take the steps I need to take in order to get a job doing it.

I am halfway through my designated "get it together" time frame, which leaves me with about 6 weeks to really dial in the awesome.

The thing is, "getting my shit together" will require driving an emotional dump truck from location to location, shoveling stuff in the back as I go. I have a lot of shit, and it's spread out all over the place. I have self-help books, and journals and lists and I am meditating like a crazy person. But I needed a little something extra. This past weekend, in an attempt to corral and organize the aforementioned shit, I attended Camp Mighty. It was frightening and thrilling and sort of surreal, with some great lighting and very intelligent, fashionable cohorts. "I feel like I'm in a Wes Anderson movie, like the Royal Tenenbaums or something." Sarah said as she lounged on a chaise by the pool. I murmured in agreement as I munched fistfuls of gorp and considered ordering a bloody mary to take with me to the next session.

Thank god Sarah was there with me. In a stroke of genius, it turns out that supporting each other on and off the track is one of the basic tenets of derby wifedom. The fact that I don't actually get on the track anymore is kind of beside the point, but do me a favor and don't point that out to her, I need all the support I can get. Besides, she's hot as hell. If I had been alone, it's a pretty safe bet that I would have spent a great deal of time this weekend crying in my crappy motel room - which was down the street from the much cooler and more beautiful Ace Hotel and Swim Club where Camp Mighty took place. The fact that the Ace was sold out would have been a lot harder to handle if I had not had someone to accompany me on the walk of shame back to the parking lot each night. Without Sarah's steadying presence, I am confident that I would have spent the weekend in that "affordably hip" motel room that smelled like old men and hair dye, watching Food Network and infomercials while drinking iced tea out of the minibar.

I went into this weekend thinking "WooHOOOOO! Weekend in Palm Springs, opening bottles of champagne with swords and learning how to punch people and tie them up!" I glossed over the fact that there was going to be some accountability involved, and that I was going to have to actually make some long-term plans and commitments to someone other than my kids and spouse(s).

Someone like myself, maybe.

And it never occured to me that it might not be all sunshine, champagne and Sinatra in Palm Springs.


When we discovered that, in fact, it was cold and rainy in the middle of the desert, and then opened the door to our motel room and immediately gagged and ran to open the windows, assuming that someone had died in there and they had used stinky chemicals to clean up the blood stains, it could have been the beginning of my spiral. The fact that the champagne opening class was cancelled due to a torrential downpour would have given me an extra shove in that direction. Someone would have found me mid-week in the middle of the desert breathing into an empty In-N-Out bag and tying my shoelaces in knots.

That didn't happen.


Instead, I learned three important things this weekend:
1. Staying anywhere other than the Ace is depressing - sleep in your car if you can't get a room there.
2. If you put an "A" in "definitely", you're definitely an asshole.
3. Cantelope makes everything better.

These were important life lessons, and even if I don't figure out what I want to be when I grow up, at least I have these three things that I know in my heart are true. The rest is still a work in progress. Turns out, trying to pull it together is hard, people. Really hard. It is physically and emotionally draining. Thankfully, I had my fabulous Sarah with me, and we met an incredible group of people almost immediately after arriving (more on them later). I am a lucky duck. I may be without direction, but at least I can stay afloat.

Except in hot tubs. But that is a story for another time.