The Happiness Project

Years ago, my friend Chris used to play guitar and sing around the area. He was fun and zany and talented. I remember sitting outside The Big House while he played "Happy Hour." It was an oxymoron. Chris was a moody rocker trying to make a living playing gigs, driving an old minivan and carrying his CDs in a rusted Budweiser Cooler he found on the porch of the last apartment he moved into. We decided he played "Anti-Happy Hour." Being happy was over-rated and lame. We were young and angst was our right.

A year or two ago I became obsessed with self-help type reading material. I got subscriptions to Woman's Day and Real Simple and Everyday with Rachael Ray. I started a notebook where I would make idyllic notes and lists and things I thought would change my life. Ways to save money, lose weight, get over my social anxiety. The list was endless. It was in one of these publications that I first heard of The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin (bonus is that she wrote a book about JFK). I read the blurb and thought him... I had already attempted to read Sanity Savers by Dr. Dale Atkins but that got sidetracked by the whole career derailment. I had also started YOU on a Diet! by Dr. Oz and friends. Like I needed one more book by a self absorbed narcissist. (I never did finish Julie & Julia b/c quite frankly Julie annoyed the hell out of me.)

But whilst killing time waiting for my job change to become official, I popped into Borders. I picked up The Happiness Project and perused it for a minute or two before deciding to promptly by it and a day by day agenda. I wanted to be happy dammit! I wanted to know how to go forward without crawling up in a hole and wanting to die. Could I really afford another book with the shelves and shelves I already owned that went un-read while I continuously re-read my tattered copies of Harry Potter 1 - 7 & the Twilight Saga. I could happily lose myself in those worlds and be happy there. As much as I love those books I get mad at myself for how readily I will re-read them instead of picking up something new. And like I said I have shelves and shelves of NEW. In some ways it's the same feeling I get whenever my best friend & I explore the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC. My favorites are the impressionists. Whenever I go there it's like greeting old friends. These stories & characters are old friends whom I love to get lost with.

I've digressed. The Happiness Project. It's what I need in this time of personal turmoil. It's practical, insightful and easy to read. I am currently reading April and looking forward to the other 8 months of the year. I want to read the book before I check out her blog or anything. I want to absorb it. I have Post-It Flags and markers to highlight things I find important or connections I make.

It ties in to my SUNSHINE, HAPPINESS, & BUNNIES mantra.

I've been telling everyone - my mother, co-workers, friends, myself that I will begin the job hunting process on February 1st. That's tomorrow. 40 minutes away to be exact.

I am looking forward to the challenge. I embrace the change. Whatever happens next, I will be better for it. One of Gretchen Rubin's philosophies is to "act how you want to feel." Typically, not a "rainbows & kittens" person, I want to act happy. This week, a teacher from my town, the mother of two, part of a decent family, beloved by her students jumped off a bridge. I don't want to go down that path. I have been on it before and I made it through but not without some bumps & scrapes. I want to be thankful for what I do have and not mourn what I lost. I want to believe that God won't ever give me anything I can't handle and that the "light at the end of the tunnel" is something worth waiting for.

Sunshine, Happiness & Bunnies

As we begin the second month of this new year, that has become my mantra. I spent New Year's Eve & New Year's Day crying my eyes out because I couldn't be the one place I wanted most in the world. Every NYE for nine consecutive years, I have left my real life 2 1/2 hours behind to spend the night living the life I wanted to live.

Not making much sense am I? I started this blog as a reaction to my attempt to read Julie & Julia this summer. I've had a blog for years but I wanted to create one I felt passionate about. Writing is my passion.

But what good is passion when you have the attention span of a gnat in a produce aisle?

Since I was twelve years old I have wanted to live in Boston. Can't explain it, then 10 years ago I started visiting my cousin and becoming friends with his friends and well, I could picture myself there. My only two obstacles have been the need to be close to my parents who will be 75 this year and the cost of living. I've never been good with money.

After spending most of the first weekend of 2010 completely depressed and bitter, I decided it was up to me whether or not to grab 2010 by the balls or not. I "put on a happy face", made a plan, made a budget and when I went back to work on January 4th I was in a REALLY good place.

I listened to a friend vent about her financial status and remember remarking that I was in a good place but that could change at a moment's notice. I had moved over the summer to a cheaper apartment that I adore, I had paid off 3 smaller credit card debts, still have 3 more big ones to go but for the first time in YEARS, I felt like I had made a dent. I was going to be more social and get myself in shape for my friend's wedding in November. It was all good.

Then on January 5th, I was called in to the principal's office and everything went to hell. Due to a population change in my specialty, it was with budgetary concerns that they were cutting my job to .6 but I could still keep my benefits.

Calm. I was calm. I dreaded telling my parents as we had been down this road six years earlier. I called my sister who tried to be optimistic. How would I pay my bills? I just had figured out a plan, I had no money in savings and I was proud of the fact that while I always accepted any handouts my parents offered, I had never had to ask them for money, no matter what debt I was in, I managed it on my own.

Okay, so 40% less money. Ouch. I took a day before I told my parents and after them, I told my landlords, friends of a friend who happened to be ready for a tenant right when I was dying to move. They took it in stride and said they weren't worried, but I wanted to make sure they heard it from me before something got posted on Facebook.

After January 5th, I spent a few days bitter and angry. I was annoyed with the whole situation but I wasn't really looking past January 29th, my last full day. I spent the days informing parents, meeting with administration and working diligently on a schedule that would please everyone. It was frustrating, painful and disheartening. But I took it all in stride. And with the exception of one meeting with administration tainted by PMS and the annoying trait I have of crying when frustrated, I haven't cried at all.

I got the "it's not personal" equivalent of it's not you, it's me in a break up. I know that this is not due to my performance because I am good at my job. I am confident in that. I like my job, sure there are ups & downs but I like what I do and I am getting better at it every year. I like learning and seeing my kids make progress, even if it's a small step.

So after going throw the 5 stages of grief in 19 days, I decided that the only person that can make me miserable is ME. Part of me looks at this as an opportunity to try something new, something better, something I wouldn't have tried because I'd grown comfortable in my job and home. The friends I have are friends I've had forever and my usual new year's resolutions to try new things usually get waylaid by monetary concerns (i.e. ball room dance lessons - which I LOVED but couldn't afford so rather than face them, I just stopped going).

On January 24th, I decided that I wanted to back to the GOOD PLACE I had been in on January 4th. I liked her and that feeling.

Driving home from work everyday last week I drove past a digital church sign: The best way to get even is to forget. I could do that. I wouldn't go out of my way to be accommodating and flexible like I always had been but I didn't have to be a bitch either. I could find common ground. Like they say, "Smile, it makes other people wonder what you're up to."

I found myself explaining to someone who hadn't realized about my job situation that I was letting it go, I was tired of whining and bitching, from now on I was going to be SUNSHINE, HAPPINESS, & BUNNIES. They laughed but I found myself realizing I meant it. I want to be happy.

It just so happens that someone important to me decided to quit his job. I told him that he was brave. He recognized that it was making him miserable. I would have never had the courage to do that. I would have just continued to do what I was doing until I couldn't do it anymore because I never considered looking at other options. Ironically our last days coincided.