Three Years in the District
I didn’t write one of these last year; not for any reason in particular, I just forgot. Or I didn’t care. Or I was busy—get off my back. We’re here now.
Three years is a lot of time and no time at all. I blinked and settled into a new apartment on a new coast with a new cat living a new life. New friends, new job, it happened to be where Joey and Jason lived but that’s not why I’m—
Wait. No. That’s the Crazy Ex-Girlfriend theme song.
Did we, as a society, collectively forget that was the Emmy-award winning CW show that was Crazy-Ex Girlfriend which brought musical theater to thousands every week and subverted the stereotype of the crazy-girlfriend and metamorphosed into a show about the importance of mental health and getting a proper diagnoses and medication all while finding self-worth in a world that too often tells you that in order to succeed you have to be dependent on someone stronger to carry you through because you don’t feel good enough to tackle it on your own? The show that launched the hit song ‘Very First Penis I Saw’? THAT SHOW?
Where was I?
Right, three years.
I’ve been wondering lately who I would’ve been if I stayed in LA. Would I be the same person? Would I have found the same path? Come with me, if you will, down the rabbit hole and through sliding doors:
Let’s say that this ‘Jason’ never got the job at CAP. Let’s say he found another agency job right at the heart of Los Angeles, and stuck out the pandemic in his 500sqft studio apartment in Koreatown blithely unaware that opportunities awaited on the other side of the country.
The work is good, though the pay is less so, making it difficult to thrive in status-ladened, star-studded City of Angeles. He stays in touch with the friends he’s made—the ones that weathered the pandemic and attempted to remain close. He sees his parents every weekend since they’re only a 45min drive north, though he never stays longer than a few hours. In an ideal fantasy, his baking side-business finds a new life, as he picks up where he left off just before the pandemic. Jason creates an LLC, gets his cottage food license, and does the best he can navigating the farmer’s market circuit. Success is minimal, but tangible, though at the cost of love.
Relationships outside of the random affairs with those who bother to spend the requisite 20min to find parking in KTown are scarce. Enough to satiate the need, but not enough to flourish into something more. It’s a fact that keeps Jason up at night, if only he had a cat to help numb the dull pain (Sorry, Gendry, but you don’t exist in this). Most of his time is spent in his car, getting from one place to another to another, all while listening to podcasts and musical soundtracks, completely oblivious to the world of politics and progress.
Jason’s life is simple and his base needs are met, but in following this trajectory, so much has yet to be achieved.
Well, that took a depressing turn. I get that it’s not objective (how can it be?), but even the thought of not having the life i’ve had the last three years is unthinkable. Let’s believe in destiny for a moment and fully accept the idea that I was meant to be in DC. I was meant to leave. And in doing so, look what I’ve found.
I’ve found family.
I’ve found joy.
I’ve found love.
I’ve found stress.
I’ve found me.
I will always wonder what would have happened if I stayed; what if I forged a life in LA; what if I got a different cat; what if I found love elsewhere; what if, what if, what if…it doesn’t matter.
Because I will always stop thinking about the ‘what ifs’ and anchor myself to what I chose.
