011: Figuring "It" Out (Part 1)
Ft. hanging out with my mom at Whole Foods
Happy Holidays!
I recently met a woman who travels around the world full-time, who commented that Americans are the only ones who go all out with Christmas decorations, and that’s what makes the holidays here so special. I have to agree—James and I are only spending 3 weeks at home in between Thanksgiving and New Year’s, but I still insisted on putting up our tree.
In the words of my sister: “It changes the vibe.” I’d like to think so too :)
This week’s post is a short personal update, looking back on a recent interaction with my mom where I share how I found joy in writing. It’s the first part of a series on this topic, which I’ll share over the next few months.
Next week’s post is about going on vacation (even while you’re already technically on vacation?), as James and I head off to New Zealand for the rest of the year. While away, I’ll be taking a break from the blog, but I’ll see everyone in 2023.
Lastly, apologies in advance for any typos—James and I have been on 24/7 poo-poo patrol dealing with the aftermath of the Lychee Baklava incident last week. Suffice to say, we’re a little sleep deprived… But at least Lychee is now feeling better!
As always, thanks for reading :)
Written while eating a homemade salad of organic lacinato kale, heirloom cherry tomatoes, and Persian cucumbers, tossed in Kewpie deep-roasted sesame dressing. I’m convinced this dressing can make anything delicious.
My mom complains I don’t visit her enough—which is probably true; I mainly visit when I need something. In today’s case, I’m in town because of a dentist’s appointment. I have an hour before I need to head home, so we decide to hang out at Whole Foods while I shop.
I push our cart through the aisles as she chatters freely: about her hikes, about Lychee’s health, about how I should be nicer to James, about my sister’s sticker shop, and of course—how my unemployment is going.
She’s different from my dad in that she won’t exert overt pressure, nor is she as fazed by the negative stigma of being unemployed. She herself had to navigate getting laid off last year after almost 20 years of stellar service at her last job. Not ready for retirement, she quickly found a job within a month. The speed and simplicity surprised her—but she also always knew what she was looking for and never wavered from the path.
She’s a pharmaceutical scientist—a specialized, technical role—and a good one at that. But when I ask her if she likes what she does, she looks at me quizzically. “There’s nothing to like or dislike about my job. Work is just work; you just do it. Seems like everyone in your generation is always complaining about toxicity or getting burned out. You should just find any job; work isn’t supposed to make you happy.”