“Remoted - Hybrid” – Day 548 (Wednesday)

What a difference a decade makes. On this date in 2011, the entertainment calendar featured The Raconteurs show at the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville and I was an account manager at a marketing agency, the job I imagined having while in college and studying marketing. It wasn’t quite the Boston agency in a funky brick and beam building originally pictured, but it was a cool agency based in Clarksville with a branch office in Nashville and there was a brick wall in our entry area, so parts of the reality were close to the earlier dream situation. The projects were interesting, challenging, and sometimes very high visibility and dang, it was satisfying. 

Life in a much faster lane, 2010.

Life back then was solidly in a faster lane. There was skating on the fledgling roller derby team and dancing with The Jezebellies belly dance troupe. There was the Downtown Artist Co-Op and the Friends of Photography. The social circle was full of intellectuals, creatives, and athletes and it was exciting. The busier I was, the more I got done and the energy fed off itself and made more energy.

On the 2021 scorecard, the job is in marketing, the current office-office is in a building steeped in history, has massive beams, and we’re less than an hour from Boston. That is plenty close to that original vision. The work side checks some of the boxes, but the rest of it is a bit off balance.

Life is much more solitary, sometimes by choice, sometimes by accident. Athletic endeavors of recent years are mostly limited to mowing the lawn, with the recent addition of on-site work days and a moderately paced walk between the parking garage and the office. It’s not quite skating 25 derby track laps in five minutes, but it’s okay. You can’t have it all, all the time, and it’s not practical to live in the fast lane forever, except maybe for Keith Richards.

There is a current, thorough understanding of that crazy and annoying stereotypical elderly aunt. You know the one – the lipstick was always drawn on way beyond the actual lips and there was the constant droning about the good old days while everyone under the age of 100 rolled their eyes and thought “oh, gawd, not again.” I am her. She is me. Blah blah, back when I was younger and more fun … blah blah I used to do a lot of cool stuff … blah blah. Maybe it’s a bit early to have dusted off the rocking chair and embraced the vibe. Let’s hope it’s possible to kick things back into gear again after a period of dormancy.