Speaking of Amazon - I'm still working there. In fact, the highlight of my time was probably this morning when I turned on my computer to this image:
As one would expect, I especially kicked ass today.
My ping pong game's improving. At RKG, I was a straight singles player, but my doubles game is developing, and I think I'm coming into my own as a partner. I need to bring a pair of ping pong shoes to work, because my mobility is extremely limited in my boots. It's Q4, so the response de jour is, "I'm really slammed with Q4." I sometimes wonder the root of the stress as I'm simultaneously wondering what song we should lip sync to win the office battle. Is it real, is it manufactured, is it necessary, is it group think? This happened a lot in business school. Everyone around you was stressed, so you were stressed, sometimes warranted, but most of the time because you had FOMO if you weren't stressed. I'm very grateful to say that work is not stressful for me. Part of that is my nature, but a bigger part of that is the team and the leadership. At any company, the team dictates your experience, and when I came to Amazon, the only thing I prayed for was a team with great leadership. There will come a time when my work will necessarily cause me stress, and I will be grateful for that stress, but between you and me, I don't think it will be in retail. Chassis can only stress me out so much. That's right, folks, I know what a chassis is. Well, I don't really know what a chassis is, but I know how to pronounce it, and I know it exists. I've also decided to name my first born chassis, which is, I believe, gender neutral. Very progressive of me. I know, I know, I need a date first.
A number of people have asked me for a dating update, but I need to be clear. I can't disclose every date on my blog, otherwise, suitors will be terrified to go on a date with me. Of course, if they read my blog, they may not be pursuing me for other reasons - like the fear I'd make them take my last name. I love my last name and pseudo-Polish heritage, but I wouldn't put anyone through the nuisance of spelling Navatsyk to a stranger. Mr. Smith, you can rest easy and ask me out, I will happily take your name.
All that said, I did get asked out tonight. A good friend of mine, Armin, once told me at a bar, that all I needed to do to pick up guys was sit at the bar and stare off into space, looking a little lost and confused. He's not wrong. I accepted the experiment. Within five minutes, I had three guys approach me and try to spark a conversation. However, I think an even better way to pick up guys is to go to a bar alone on a Sunday to watch football. Don't be mistaken; I don't go to pick up guys. I go to watch all three mediocre fantasy lineups perform below expectation and occasionally argue if OBJ is worth his asinine contract. Then, somewhere in the middle of this, I get someone's life story. Like two weeks ago, when the guy next to me told me that two of his closest friends had passed away in the past year under the age of forty - one from falling down a crevice while skiing Mount Rainier, and the other from a brain aneurism. We passed way beyond OBJ at this point, and, frankly, the fact that the bartender kept refilling my mimosa without me asking left me ill-equipped to engage in this level of conversation.
Anyways... the date. I didn't go. With so much newness, it's sometimes hard to convince yourself you want to adjust to something else that's new. Even if it's only on a Friday night, because that Friday night is sacred, and it's no one else's but your own. Plus, I have to wake up at 8 am tomorrow to watch the Michigan/MSU game and drink mimosas. Ahh the struggles of the West Coast sports viewing.
Dating's tricky. Because sometimes you're on that side of it, and sometimes, you're on the other. I guess, the hope is, eventually, you meet someone who's on the same side. Or you start recording the stories of everyone you meet sitting at a bar on a Sunday.
Football, not as tricky. It's pure, especially in high school. I just sat on the edge of my seat, reading my mother's texts, recounting the Chardon/Kenston matchup. Kenston was ranked number one in the state. My brother-in-law, Mitch, is the head coach of Chardon football, and my dad has helped coach for as long as I can remember - I believe 24 years at this point. This game was huge. If they won, they made the playoffs after a rocky start, and if they lost, they were out. Mitch is intense. I've always loved his intensity. He talks about softness a lot. He hates softness. At the beginning of this year, he was interviewed, and he referenced war. "I want to find the guys who I can take to battle, who I want with me in the trenches." Of course, war may be a bit of an exaggeration, because there have been wars, and these boys aren't in a war. But if you've ever seen a young team win THAT game, you get it. You feel that passion, that grit, that leadership, that camaraderie, and that community that stands behind them. Maybe it's just because I grew up in this town where football was king, but that moment is so special.
O, that town. I'll never stop missing it. I'll never stop missing my nieces and nephews, Sunday dinners, my parents and siblings, the Midwest spirit. But three months into my new home, I'm feeling mostly settled. I'm figuring out the people I want with me in the trenches*. I'm figuring out the balance between the different facets of my life, though my screaming triceps would argue I still have some work to do. I'm figuring out how to confront my flaws and improve. Mostly, I'm continually learning that all of this takes time, and I need to be patient.
It's funny. Sometimes you think you're an adult. You think you're getting it together. Then you get back from Whole Foods, sit on the toilet, and realize the one thing that wasn't included in your $118 bill was toilet paper.
* I don't know if fringing is the right term, or if it's a verb, but I like it.
* I was going to say in my trenches, but I feel like that's inappropriate.
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