"Smoke a Cigarette Indoors Without Getting Caught"

Many times in my life, I have come across a situation where I have to muster up some courage. We're not talking about your average pedestrian who runs through the crosswalk when the little white man is blinking. No... That does take a lot of courage when you live in Chicago, but that's not what I mean. We're talking about facing the serious stuff that we know has a strong possibility of going wrong... maybe even effect your path of life.

For some reason, lately, I feel like every decision I make is absolutely Epic...

Today, my whole day, I fought with myself about whether or not to tell the parents of the family I work for, how I feel. I have a lot on my mind that has been agitating me. Here's the deal: I was hired 6  months ago to work part time as a Nanny. I have been working full-time for the last 4 months without a raise AND without the apartment I was promised would be done within 2-3 weeks. This uncomfortable scenario might have been avoided if I would have stood up for myself from the beginning. I've said nothing about any of my unmet promises because I really have grown to care for this family so much and I don't want to rock the boat or ruin that. However, its become obvious to me that my considerations are not being reciprocated. The parents wrote me a list of added expectations yesterday morning. They sort of just handed me the notebook pages of bullet points (with awful under-toned comments) and then asked if I had questions. I responded that I had no questions, but couldn't help but feel the need to defend myself. They immediately cut me off, rambled about their needs for a few minutes and then just separated from me. The mom went upstairs to change, mid-convo. And then the dad got a call and never came back... Simultaneously.

 Ugh... this shouldn't be this difficult (to find a resolution). But for some reason, this feels Epic to me. I honestly feel like what I'm really being faced with has two scenarios with (possible) poor outcomes on my life: Either I'm totally honest and say that I'm being taken advantage of-- and risk the possibility of no compromise (bc that's just how they are). I'd have to quit to save my own diginity... you know, do what's right, be who I am, yada yada. OR I could just say nothing and continue to feel unmotivated-- resulting in me not doing what I've never opposed to as my responsibility. I would be fired. Are you following me??

Basically, in my mind, Today I struggled with the concept of being fired or quitting. Huge, life-altering moment, could be in progress (EPIC). I've been thinking though... And I'm starting to wonder if I'm in my own head a little too much? You think?

I can look at it from both places in my mind. I know that this could be something really great for me, but I have to either speak up or quit. I find myself in these places all the time. I'm always afraid. I realized today that being afraid all the time is also known as being a coward. I DON'T want to be a coward. That's sounds awful. Hypotheically, let's say I needed some courage, what do I need to do?

So, my room is all done and is revealing its own style. I love it. My room is FINALLY done. I started decorating it last night-- I was up until 1am, which is a little late for me. Tonight is the first time I really got to experience hanging out in my own room. I think I had forgotten how wonderful it is to have the luxury of your own space, with your own possessions and style. I got home and immediately went to my room and flipped on my new fancy, sexy and sleek iPod stereo (it has surround sound which is super fancy for me). I immediately commenced the crazy dancing. It felt great.

You see, I'm a live-in nanny for a family with 4 kids. A ten year old boy, Zac; Twin grils, Hannah and Sophie, who are eight; and the baby, Reese- she's 11 months. I LOVE my job. The parents, Britt and Larry, have grown to be my roommates/friends/bosses. I really like them... We click really well. The kids are all wonderful and I've already grown to love them so much.  I've been here for about 6 months. The only problem is, I was promised an apartment that would be done in a month from my start date (and lived in the oldest boy's room with a closet for storage/clothes, in the mean time). Well... here we are 6 months later and the apartment is painted, geared up for electricity and the remainder- cabinets, toilet, flooring, sinks, etc- is at least purchased. My room to my basement apartment JUST got done yesterday. Actually, I take that back... The closet racks still aren't up yet, so my clothes have a home in Zac's closet two floors up. I'm supposed to have the closet done tomorrow though **fingers crossed**. Overall, I really haven't minded the incovenience... I guess I kind of forgot what a wonderful thing it is to have your own space.

I needed a good dancing session. It made me feel so much better. It was a reminder how life can always be awesome... somehow. I'm feeling really good. I went to meet with my personal trainer today. Britt and I took up a kick boxing class and personal training session twice a week. In light of my 25th year of life, I've decided its time to get serious about my health. I've been doing well... I actually like it. Its nice to have commitments throughout the week, anyway. I do sand volleyball every Wednesday night, too. Our team isn't the best, but we put up a good fight. Its a lot of fun. I actually mixed up my workout pants with my volleyball pants, so I went to the Gym today with a sandy ass. lol

My boyfriend and I... idk... (something). We talked yesterday and today. I feel like they were good, much needed talks. I'm just finding myself holding back a bit. I'm not sure if I'm going to regret giving this another chance. That fact makes me feel like I can't give it my all, so what's the point? Here's the deal: Andy was my first love. We dated in high school for a couple years. We were young, but very much in love. We broke up mutually. Its a long story, but I think we just chalked it up to bad timing. There weren't any harsh feelings... Just broken hearts, but moved on because we had to. After high school, every one I dated I compared my feelings to the way I felt about Andy-- somewhere in the back of my head... never really directly. When I moved back to Chicago, we started talking... and well, pretty much jumped straight back into our relationship as completely different people, regardless. Anyway, at first, it seemed like this romantic miracle. I'm pretty sure something magical, like cupid, has something to do with it. Its ridiculously amazing. Then, out of nowhere (other than a brief incident in college that i was not around for), the guy ends up in the hospital for... well, mental illness. I couldn't just leave him-- nor did I want to. I figured "love would keep us together". You know, "I love him so much, I know he has it in him. He'll get past it... he has to" and all that. I honestly believed all that. While I have never stopped loving him, I have my doubts that he can get past this. He moved back home with his parents, has a job where he makes tips, and lives off  unemployment-- enough to afford his nice car he bought while still working for the bank and his now accumulated hospital bills. He can't seem to find a new job... its been a year. I honestly believe that the economy isn't working in his favor, but there's a part of me that still questions whether he is trying very hard. He seems to get in this groove where he thinks life is natrually impossible, so why even bother... Poor guy, i feel for him. I really do... I'm just getting exhausted and I don't know what to do. I'm in my head so much.

Which brings me to why I started blogging again. I don't know that anyone will really care about my life or what I have to say. Regardless, I need to get out of my head. Besides, I try to lead an interesting life, so it wouldn't be impossible for someone out there to find my stories engaging. So... here's to blogging. May it serve its purpose!