Sometimes, instead of saying normal, I say nermal. Whenever I put something online that has previously only ever existed in my head, I do a quick little google to make sure that my weird personal gibberish is not unsuspectingly problematic or means something I did not realize at all (like the time I referenced a Billy Idol song in a Facebook status on my sister’s wedding day because I did not know about things, the things being cocaine).  

This post is a post celebrating all things normal, which in my brain is very often pronounced nermal, so before writing, I did my quick little google. Nermal, I am happy to report, generally only brings up grey catted Garfield adjacent content – and since grey cats are the best cats (I’m looking at you, Chevy), nermal this post will be!  

At a huge risk of jinxing things, I would like to share that I have a very large and very wonderful feeling that life is suddenly about to start feeling nermal again. Let me tell you, I AM SO THRILLED.  

Aaron and I have had quite a six-month period of changes and hard work. It has been, in short, very exhausting for the both of us. This has been coming from many directions, from the early learns of new home ownership to job stress to medical pet stress. As I mentioned in my last post, a lot of it has come from my crisis of career (and capitalism. Still blaming capitalism). Tied in with all of that is the lack of routine that comes from the lack of a regular job. It’s just been…a lot. But something about the last few weeks has led me to believe that things are about to change. 

Looking back, I think it started with the fantastic trip to Sacramento that I took at the beginning of August. It wasn’t the first time I’d left the area since our move; Aaron and I had been in the house for just over a month when we took a quick trip down to San Diego to see friends get married last April. I remember at the time thinking that when we returned from San Diego, it would be our first time arriving back at our new house, to fly to SeaTac and not San Jose, and that it would make the reality of our move hit home. And it didn’t, really. It just felt like another day. 

My trip to Sacramento was different. I got to see all of my friends and family, and because my Sacramento trips when I was living in San Jose only lasted a max of 48 hours, this 7-day trip felt super cushy and relaxing. And it gave me the gift of missing my home, of missing Aaron and Chevy, and of being excited to get back to them. Amongst the very weird things my job life was still going through, it was a huge positive moment in making me realize that our little plot of land and our hilltop house really has come to feel like home.  

Now if you follow me on Instagram, which I assume you do because how else would you have ended up on this post, you’ll probably have seen the gorgeous blue-skied ferry content from my commute to my new job on Vashon Island. Perhaps you have also noticed the sudden drop-off in that content in the past two weeks.  

Well, in a textbook example of Instagram vs. Reality, whenever I posted those stories, I would omit the fact that that commute was total garbage. Ha! So refreshing to reveal that secret. That ferry ride, while beautiful, was a mere 15 minute chunk of a commute that ranged from 90 minutes on a good day to two full hours door to door on a bad one. On top of that, the organization the job was with was just unfortunately not the right fit. So I kept working there, and kept my 1-2 days a week at Earthwise, but started looking for something else.  

Friends, I am here to tell you, there is something about the six-month mark for me. It took six months for me to find Filoli after moving back to California from London, and it took me six months for me to find something that’s finally brought me the same level of career excitement. In a couple of hours, I’ll be heading over to LeMay, America’s Car Museum, for my first day as their new Database Coordinator. Well, today is only a partial day because I’m just filling out paperwork. But starting tomorrow, this writer has a brand spankin’ new, Monday through Friday, 40 hour a week full time job that pays her a decent wage. Let me say again: I AM SO THRILLED.  

I do wish that jobs didn’t matter so much, and they don’t. That’s something I have talked at length about with my friends and family and even this blog. But as much as they don’t matter in the “they don’t define your identity” sense, they inarguably do matter in the “you need an income and ideally don’t want to be miserable for 40 hours a week” sense. I am very hopeful that in this new job, I have locked down the latter. More than anything, I am just so excited for nermal. For stability. For the nest-y vibes and calmness I felt in San Jose, only new and improved with the surety that comes from knowing we will not be moving again any time soon.  

This woman is ready for some serious-ass nermal. And because I am me, and everything feels more complete and satisfying when I have tippity-typed it up for posterity and the internet, I wanted to come here and share that.  

Sure, it’s a little jinxy. But I have a whole lot of faith that this is positivity well placed. Life is not and will not be perfect. Our amazing, wonderful, best cat in the world Chevy is in the final stages of kidney failure. Her day to day is fine but we’re giving her subcutaneous fluids every other day and refer to this time that we’re getting with her as Bonus Time. House stuff will continue to happen and cost money, and work will likely become stressful. Gas will probably never be less than $5.00 a gallon for longer than ten minutes ever again. Student loan payments are starting back up. As my bestie and I shared the other day – being alive in 2023 is just fucking hard, dude.  

But I am very, very grateful that I have so much good going on, so much wonderful lovely nermal. So find your nermal and let’s celebrate it, guys. To the next six months. May they include many things, none of which is having no less than having five different jobs in succession.