Abu Dhabi Life: 2 months

It's been 2 months (+/- a few days) since I moved back to the UAE to be with Steven. In all, we spent 18 months/569 days living apart and even though we're not strangers to long distance, neither one of us is keen on doing it again anytime soon. This was our 4th bout of long distance in the last ~10 years and I don't know if it was the specific circumstances, our old(er) age, how much closer/more bonded we were after winging it in Dubai the previous year, or just the longer length of time - but it was the pits. So we're not going to be doing that again for a long while, hopefully ever.

But happily, the time here has flown by really quickly. I'm not even sure where to start with this post but I'm just going to posit that I have only trace amounts of culture shock this time around.

Steven isn't here right now so he can't disagree with that last statement.

I've been sitting here patiently expecting to feel the familiar WTF IS THIS culture shock/chaos that was rampant last time. But it hasn't really shown up and I'm not sure if it's just a delayed start, or if re-entry is just going to be smoother. When I think about it though, it makes sense that this time would be easier.

A quick recap since I know my posts have been sporadic and a little thin on details for a while: When we first moved to Dubai a couple years ago, every circumstance was more difficult (see here if you missed my long and emotional rants). We were new to the UAE and didn't know how anything worked or what to expect, which made it feel me really unstable. And our first house/villa didn't feel like a comfortable place since it was either almost empty (in the beginning), flooded (okay, that was just for a few hours), without running water (three separate times!), etc.  And it didn't help that we were also trying to sell our Gig Harbor house, a bit anti-social, and I was a ball of pure stress (that's just how I get sometimes). 

A day in the life (sometimes).

So it was kind of doomed to be difficult. But even so, it was still a great experience and the closeness that Sven and I achieved is the stuff (my) dreams are made of. Plus, the travel opportunities were pretty great. But I really felt like I had unfinished business in my work/my professional life, and it haunted me enough that I decided to move back to the states alone. I ended up regretting that solo move about 6 months in, but c'est la vie. We had committed to meeting some goals together and at that point it didn't make sense not to see it through. And once those goals were met, it didn't make sense to be apart.  But instead of Steven moving back to the US to join me, we changed our minds and I came back to the UAE instead.

And now I'm back here, this time in Abu Dhabi rather than Dubai. So far everything is the same in terms of what I remember of the culture, the weather, the rules, expat life, etc. But this time I feel very different - probably because Sven and I are in a different place in our marriage/life. I'm sure it also helps that we're in more comfortable digs and Steven has become so knowledgeable about how things work here. But I also think the time apart changed our perspectives and deepened our appreciation for one another in a way that's hopefully lasting.  It's really cheesy but I wake every morning grateful we get to be together this day and the next, without a plane to catch that'll take us one of us a world away. And while that feeling might eventually fade and be replaced by the mundane everyday rituals, for now the warm and fuzzy feeling still permeates my everyday. So in the present it's hard to get worked up about a non-working toilet, slightly too-warm rooms, or two flat tires in 2 weeks (yep, that happened).  Well, hard for me to get worked up - Steve is his own person.  ;)

He especially loves when I say this in response to one of those issues.

All joking aside though, I'm really content with where I am right now. I didn't end up bringing my job with me (last minute wrench), but I'm pretty pleased with how things worked out anyway. My days now are much slower paced and most of the time nothing very exciting is happening. I'm just a housewife (according to my visa), cooking up a storm, reading a bunch of books, and filling herself back up with all the things she once wanted to do/be/embody. It's boring but awesome and grounding in a way I can't quite describe yet. With each passing day I can feel the angst, the pressure, the competition, and the stress fading away as I slowly replace it with all the things I love and still want to embrace in the years to come. One day, one meal, one book, and one decision at a time.

I don't know what the upcoming months and years have in store, but that's okay because it no longer eats at me. And that, my dear ones, is the point.

The 12 stages of inbox acceptance

One of the most difficult things about my new (started a year ago) job has been the massive number of emails.  For the last 10 years (ish), I have been a stickler about my work emails - a clean inbox and carefully filed archives.  But that's basically impossible at the new job: it's a never-ending onslaught.

A(n almost) year later, this is what I've learned.

Stage 1: 
All my friends and new coworkers warned me about the volume and told me my best bet would be extreme prioritization and not doing/seeing/covering everything. But it was the beginning and my optimism ran (too) high.

Stage 2: 
A couple months later the job was in full swing and I started to understand what everyone meant.

Stage 3: 
DENIAL. This cannot be right.

Stage 4: 
Negotiation with email senders to just IM/call/meet/anything instead of email.

Stage 5: 
No one listened to my desperate pleas and I am overrun and overwhelmed. And the better I got at my job, the more emails I got. I felt hunted (or maybe haunted).

Stage 6: 
It worsened and my inbox reached horrific heights: tens of thousands of un-filed emails even though I spent long hours every day reading them all. Instead of addressing the inbox itself, I decided to change my perspective...just not quite yet.

Stage 7: 
Vacation = procrastination = temporary bliss.

Stage 8: 
I returned from vacation to find THOUSANDS of unread emails.

Stage 9: 
My fresh-from-vacation delusion convinces me I should clean up my act/inbox with some really hard work.  It feels pretty damn good when it's finally clean.

Stage 10: 
It lasts less than 2 weeks, but I keep trying. I spend countless hours over the course of 3 months re-cleaning it. I end up resenting everyone who Replies All with meaningless shit...a lot.

Stage 11: 
After several months and countless hours of failing at this, I finally gave up. I decided it's just not worth feeding my mental/emotional need for a well groomed inbox. It's added to the list of "let that shit go."

Stage 12: 
A full 10 months after starting my job, I have finally accepted my crazy inbox.

I even relish it a little.

The end.

Living Apart: 417 Days

I came back to live in the states and go back to work on November 17th, 2016.  That means Steven and I have been doing this distance marriage thing for 417 days.

FOUR HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN DAYS, PEOPLE.

We've each had our ups and downs, and luckily never at the same time so we can offer each other moral support. And I was more or less fine for the most of the year.

I was exhausted and half-numb from trying to get used to 60+ hour work weeks again and 2 new jobs (I switched companies 6 months in). But all things considered I compartmentalized relatively well.

Or at least I thought I was considering the circumstances. I managed to hold it together at work (which was a useful distraction from the nothingness at home) but not much else. Seriously, I did nothing else (remember this post from March and this one from April?).

Our visits and trips got us through the year. We saw each other five times last year and each one was more blissful than the last.

But each one was also followed by a fairly harsh 'coming down' period and another roller coaster of feelings. But after each one I eventually re-compartmentalized myself.

And then we went to France in the beginning of October and that made all the difference. Every empty and hollow feeling I had was replaced with reminders of what I value, who and what I am, and the life I want to lead. It was wonderful.

And when I came back, I was different. Something happened in my head/heart and I just couldn't put myself back together in quite the same way as before.

I think being that happy and fulfilled made pretending afterwards a bit of a joke. But I still had my job and that innate/sometimes self-defeating desire to do well at it, and we still had goals that made sense. So when I went back to work it was coupled with a harsher sense of the trade-offs, but also at least some determination to see it through for a while longer.

And then things at work deteriorated. The hours got longer, behavior got uglier, and it was decently miserable. A handful of people quit and I was proud of them for knowing themselves and their boundaries, but also more aware of the ridiculous trade-off I was making to be there.

But of course, I know what's wrong with me. I just keep doing what I'm doing anyway.

I slid back into the numbness of work work work, long distance calls in the middle of the night to Steven, and sleeping just a handful of hours. Rinse, repeat.

And then Thanksgiving rolled around and I just couldn't hold it together after that, at least not really. I finally cried about this whole thing, and then I couldn't really stop.

So naturally, I tried coping with it by cutting myself some bangs at 2am on a weeknight. And while I love the bangs (really, I do), of course it didn't work.

And I've been hobbling along like a wounded bird ever since.

Aaaaand I'm back at work tomorrow.

Lately: Working after vacation

Coming back to work after my 2 week break was a bit of a mixed bag.  The trip allowed me to clear my head as I disconnected from the stressors of my daily life (about 90% work).  It took about a week(ish) for the fog of work to really fade away but afterwards I felt like I could see myself, Steven, and our life together with such clarity and appreciation.

Fog/shower steam, same diff

And simultaneously, the togetherness and the vacation itself filled me with all the things I adore.  It felt like my head and my heart were emptied of everything that weighed on me, and filled it with everything that lifts me up.  It was incredible.  

And then I came back full of optimism and at peace with my new-found clarity.  I went to work curious about the changes to the work itself, but still feeling the soothe of vacation.  

Monday morning

But when I said I cleared my mind, apparently I *really* did it.  I put all the details about my job on a rusty shelf in a back corner of my brain and then locked it a windowless room...and then ditched the keys in some other, known part of my brain.  

And as I reacquainted myself the old stressors showed up again, too.  But I tried to hold on to every last ounce of vacation sanity and I kept reminding myself of what's really important.  

"This is not important.  This is not important."

But that's a funny process because it involves some weird combination of me trying to stay Zen while trying to relearn everything at a dizzying pace.  And of course, my familiar malady of trying too hard to be good at things (even the ones I don't want) haunts me still.  So depending on exactly where I am in that journey, my inner dialogue is pretty varied.

When my people-pleasing, goody-two-shoes, habitual self clouds my judgment:

When I realize it:

And also realize this is the pace of my work-life:

But try to remember "This is not important"

When I achieve mental clarity mid-workday and see through all the shenanigans (and my complicit role in them)

For this weekend, my Sunday mantra: