Irony

Is it ironic, to write a blog post detailing how you’re going to write about your impending adventures in failure only to fail at writing said blog posts?  There are a few differences this time around, though.  This post (and probably all future posts) are / will be written by the boyfriend in question from the first post.  Only, the boyfriend is now a husband and the couple is now setting off on an entirely new set of adventures that we look forward to failing in: specifically, home renovations.

Oooh, aahhh.  Run for the hills.  The phrase “home renovations” strikes fear into the hearts of those who have experienced it and mild, schadenfreude-esque curiosity in those that haven’t and, probably, don’t ever want to.  Why would someone put themselves through such a thing?  It sounds pretty terrible.

Well, there’s a few reasons.

We’ve been living in Seattle for several years now and we love it here.  We don’t ever plan on moving away and, if we do, we won’t be gone for long.  We found condo that we love at the top of Capitol Hill and the bones, man.  The bones.  They’re so good.  This place could be amazing.  This place will be amazing, once we rip out all of the shitty particle-board cabinetry and really put our mark on it.

It’s a small space, though, and construction costs in Seattle are high.  Absurdly high.  Which is great for trades-people but their fees are a little too rich for our blood.  Because it’s a small space, we’d have to move out during the renovations if someone else managed them.  This option didn’t really appeal to either of us.  Additionally, I’ve always wanted to work on making a place my own. You learn a lot in the act of doing, after all, and if you’re going to own a home I feel like you should have some kind of working-knowledge of what’s going on around you.

Thus, the decision to renovate our home ourselves was born.  We’ll hire contractors as needed (I’d like to not shock myself doing electrical work, for instance) and steam forward recklessly, uncertainly, and with great enthusiasm and gusto.

I’m looking forward to sharing all of the things I accidentally learn with you, my fellow failure-seekers.

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Jumping In With Both Feet

Today, I walked into work and gave my notice.  In two weeks, my boyfriend and I will pack up and move from Atlanta to Seattle where I have absolutely no job lined up.  I’ve wanted to live in Seattle since high school but I’ve never had the courage to move on my own. Luckily my boyfriend shares my love of the outdoors and the rain, so off we go.  I’m so excited and I’m scared to death.

As we were planning the move, I decided to start this blog as a way to explore my relationship with failure. You see, I’m your typical play it safe overachiever. I’ve always done what everyone thought I SHOULD do. Make sure to stay within the lines and everything will be fine.  I was valedictorian of my high school, went to a great college, and jumped right into the corporate world after graduation. I’ve been there ever since, trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I guess I’ve always equated career with success, so not having a job leaves me with this pit in the bottom of my stomach.  But not having a clear direction for my life and career feels like failure too.

Henry Ford said, “Failure is simply the opportunity to begin again, this time more intelligently.”  And boy do I want to believe him.  He’s not the only one with thoughts on the subject. A quick search of quotes on failure turns up more results than I have time to read. It’s almost like it’s some prerequisite for success. So if that’s the case, then why am I so afraid of it?

In coming to terms with the prospect of not having a new job before moving, I’ve run the gamut of emotions. From being terrified, to calm, to being excited about a short break where I can recharge my batteries and explore what is really important to me. I’ve also realized that finding a job won’t put an end to my fear of failure.  I fear that I’ll never find a greater purpose for my life. I fear that I will fail the people I love. I fear that I’m putting all of my energy into things that, when I lay dying, won’t matter and I’ll wish I had it to do over again.  All in all, I truly want to live with no regrets… to live an unconventional life where I follow my own rules. And if I’m going to do that, I had better make friends with failure. So I’m jumping in with both feet.

Here goes nothing!