Making sense of the move to KC

Almost everything is packed, except for my last week of clothes and this computer, obviously. No cable, my DVDs are packed: so I don't really have much to do. Except think.

I go back and forth in my mind when thinking about this excursion. It's tempting, sometimes, to call it a failure, but my mind immediately gets second thoughts which recoil from that judgment.

I was lost, listless, confused, young, naive, and gullible (and probably other things too) when I made the decision to move away from Florida and take a job in corporate America. I guess that it's somewhat ridiculous to chastise myself for the "mistake" of getting a job after college; there are plenty of people that I know that spent months or more living off their parents after graduating. But none-the-less, that is what it feels like.

I do feel incredibly dumb for dropping my med school goal so abruptly during my junior year and then latching on to the first job that came along during my senior year. I feel dumb for leaving Florida for the piece of shit Midwest. Seriously, what was I thinking? Kansas City itself is a nice place, but the surrounding area is a god-awful, boring wasteland, at least to someone raised on a concoction of sunshine, oceans, and palm trees. The people with whom I worked are not "my people." They're nothing like me, a fact which I of course didn't know before arriving.

And I suppose that's the bottom line, really. The only world I'd ever seen was a doctor's world for employment and Florida world for lifestyle. I needed to see something else to have the background to make educated decisions about my future.

I was pre-med as an undergrad without really knowing why. From March 05 to February 06, in falling behind on studying for the MCAT, in letting a break-up (however difficult) affect my life as I did, in wanting to blame the life of a doctor on my father's troubles, and in following a course suggested to me, rather than chosen by me, I showed my immaturity. That immaturity led me here.

Finding maturity led me out.

There is certainly something to be said for failing on one's own. I grew up here and unfortunately growing old, bored, lonely, and slightly out of shape were part of that. The first I can correct only mentally. Attending medical school in Florida will help me correct the middle two. The last one is almost not true anymore, though it's going to be difficult for me to get back in my former peak soccer shape.

Despite those negative things, I believe that I have also gained. In finding out who I am not (someone who can be happy in a large office), what fails to motivate me (no human contact with the people I ostensibly help), where I do not belong (in not Florida), when I will not work (tedious, unpaid overtime), and why I will not like a job (no significance in what I do), I have at least narrowed down potential options to consider.

In truth though, I think it goes beyond that. I will make Medical School work, despite the difficulties I am sure to face. I will find time to have a life, despite the workload. I will enjoy the experience, because this is the path that I chose. I refuse to have any regrets from this point forward.

Those convictions, and my strength to follow through on them, are the most valuable remuneration that I recieved during my time here. I am thankful for that.

Disquiet

The best word that I have ever found to describe my current state is Disquiet. It is from the title of a book, The Book of Disquiet, by an apparently unknown Portuguese poet named Fernando Pessoa. I bought this book a few weeks before I began dating the girl from the previous post, after having told her months before that I couldn't be just friends and then removed her from my life. I have yet to finish this book. I keep picking it up during times like this, and then dropping it when I yank myself out of my oblivion of self-introspection.

Disquiet is not quiet, yet it is not unquiet. To me, it means a low, almost imperceptible sound, heard in the background, that alerts one that something is not quite right in the world. The disquiet I hear, in my mind, is the sound resonating in the gap between who I am, where I am, what I am and the person that I pretend to be, both to myself and others. The last few years of my life has consisted of my (pathetic? Sometimes.) attempts to close that gap, to feel right with how things are and will be.

I acknowledge that I can not control the world; my dad said to me once that the absolute maximum you can control is the circle whose circumference is drawn by your fingertips as you spin around in place, with your arms outstretched. I think that's very true.

I hope my next great leap, into Medical School, make my world a little better. I think that it will, but who knows?

Frustratingly, when I am honest with myself, I believe that my sense of Disquiet will become inaudible only when I find The Girl. It could be that everyone is built like that. Only time will tell, I suppose.

The Past finds me due to weather problems in Philadelphia

Had a great vacation in Naples. It was good to see old friends and thaw. I hate returning and having to warm my hands every few minutes just to type out a blog post.

My return trip to KC was delayed in the Tampa airport. This delay precipitated a stunning "blast from my past."

While walking to use the restrooms before the airplane finally boarded, I think, *think*, I saw my ex-girlfriend sitting at another gate. Aided by a malaise of aimlessness during my senior year, a lack of social life brought about by studying, writing, applying, and interviewing for Medical School for about fourteen months, an unhappiness with my current job, and a feeling of fait-accompli with my life in Kansas City, I've yet to enter a serious relationship since that (THAT) relationship ended. I guess that has given me a half-sense of never being "over" her.

What is really frustrating is that, as I always do, I chose to walk away from the opportunity to 1) verify that it really was her (I only saw this girl from about 30yards away and noticed that she was flying to the home of the aforementioned ex) and 2) to be friendly and maybe even stop feeling angry/sad/confused/other teenage angsts about the whole affair. I have no interest in dating this girl again, but now, here I am, wondering if I was crazy to pass up the chance to say goodbye civilly. If it even was her. Crazy.