I try to spice things up in my life around the New Year and set new goals, as do a lot of people. In the past I dedicated myself to eating healthier, exercising more, etc. This year, for the first time in my life, I'm trying to focus way more on my money. Not just the pursuit, maintenance of it as well. I've got some major changes to look at in the next few years, and I need the money to be right for those to go as planned. Not only that, I'm so tired of being the broke friend. Granted, my support system is amazing, and I'm blessed to have people that understand that I'm doing the best I can. But still, I want to be able to give back to them what they've given to me.
I don't know what to expect with 2018. I sure as heck didn't expect 2017 to go anywhere near what it did. Quite truthfully, even with the broken ankle and lost job, what marred most of my 2017 remains and always will be the death of Pete. I can't help but to marvel at how one of the worst things to ever happen to me, as also been one of the best things to happen to me.
Pete's death brought not just anger, tears and confusion, it also brought clarity, insight and peace. The thing is, had Pete lived, we would have had one or two nights of passion and gone about our merry ways. I would have kept doing the same mindless things, seeking happiness in a shallow existence. Before he passed, I used to imagine us meeting up in some old cafe, 15 years into the future and sharing how our lives had been over the years. I never could have imagined that I only had a few months with him.
When I met him, I really was a different woman. Flitting from casual relationship to casual relationship- no thoughts or ideas of real commitment. Which, also ironically enough, is part of what drew he and I together. Neither wanted kids or marriage. We just wanted to have a good time. My future consisted of political pow wows. Had he not died, I'm pretty sure I would have been front and center of this year's mayoral race, gathering support for Vincent Fort, or at the very least, championing for affordable housing in Atlanta.
Once Pete died, as the dust started to settle, my goals and priorities shifted. Didn't give a shit about fancy purses or politically connected friends. I started to think more about what I wanted for my life. Now I have a completely different agenda, a whole new outlook on life even. I may still get my hands wet in the political activism arena, but in a different way.
In a way not quite as Pete related, losing my job also was a huge blessing, although I didn't see it at the time. Truth is, I'd only taken the gig because it was there. After years of plugging away in graduate school, I didn't want to spend months and months of interviews and selling myself. I wanted a job and by that point, I knew I'd take whoever took me. I'd even interviewed where I interned and was rejected. I was hurt, even a tad embarrassed. Crazy enough, when I interviewed for that job, their fear was with my degree, I'd leave for a therapy job the second it opened up. I assured them that was not the case, as I had no interest in therapy. I thought it was too much work. Shit, I just wanted a job and assured them that if given the chance, I'd commit for at least a year, which they'd requested. Still I didn't get it. Enter the next to job, where I was fired unfairly. Which led me to interview for a case management position, which then promoted me into a therapist anyway. With a renewed interest in substance abuse because of Pete, I was able to have and obtain more insight on addicts in recovery, which most of my clients are. See how that all worked out? Enter Malika, the Therapist.
So yeah, what next? No damned clue. Keep a closer eye on making, and keeping my money. I may have another job lined up, only because it pays more. But I'm crunching numbers to see which one benefits me more. Which lines my pockets now, and gives me the experience I need for the next branch of my career journey? I'm also keeping an eye on my new guy, Steve. For 2 months, it was a fairy tale. Last two weeks, not so much. One of my girlfriends posed, "what if you only met his representative?" Which is a possibility. And if it is, I'm out. No need to stay in an unhappy situation. And what if shit was just thrown because of the holiday? A possibility too. I'm not all that vested either way. I'm too busy chasing coins.