Well, we’ve been settled in LA for eight days now, and it has been a… ride. Moving itself was harrowing; with a too big truck delivered to the wrong address at the wrong time by U-Haul, late arrivals from tweaked out movers, terrible driving conditions, a sketchy, pornotel abandoned at the last minute, and culminating with me sitting in said truck for six straight hours in a costco parking lot? I don’t want to move again for a long time.
Working from home has taken some real adjusting on my part. I wasn’t prepared for how lonely I would get, what an island the apartment, even in the heart of one of the most walkable neighborhoods in Los Angeles, could feel like. I wasn’t prepared for the disparity between moods at the end of the workday between John and I. He arrives home exhausted from commuting, interacting with a office of over 100 people, and just wanting to decompress — I, on the other hand just want to talk talk talk, go somewhere, anywhere, after being cooped up all day. It’s take some doing to get used to things, and to figure out our strategies going forward. Jason wisely (hi, Jason) counseled finding a way to be out of the house when John got home, to just give us both some space in those liminal moments.
I joined a rock climbing gym on Tuesday, in a fit of work related rage. I’d been meaning to join a gym anyway, as I hadn’t been in any real capacity since January, and it’s begun to show (gained 15lbs, pants are tighter). But honestly, the chief benefit of going to the gym for me has mainly been one of stress relief. I burn through so much anxiety, anger and tension during physical exercise, and on Tuesday I had all three in spades. I’ve…never climbed anything before, so that’ll be interesting, but they offer yoga 16 times a week, HIIT classes, climbing clinics, lifting and kettlebell classes. I signed up for the latter that day, and attended my first class shortly after. It felt great, if absolutely punishing. Wild swings between unwieldy and heavy burdens ? Oh honey, I’m familiar!