I’m sorry Governor Jerry Brown. Yours’ is a perfectly lovely state in which many, many people enjoy living – and, in fact, flock to for retirement. I’m sorry Newcomers friends. Nothing personal…. I’m sorry Long Beach family. I love seeing you but I don’t love living in your state. I’m sorry dear husband Peter who works very hard at a job that just happens to be in effing California.
California, I’m sorry. Really, it’s not you it’s me.
I always thought we would put down roots and raise our family in one place. In my plan we would have stayed put in that house, even as empty nesters, until we were too old and too feeble to make it up the stairs. Funny how real life doesn’t match up with the fairy tale you imagine in your mind.
When I learned that Peter was approached about a job in San Diego I WAS NOT HAPPY. Although he had been miserable at his previous job for some time I wanted him to stick with it rather than force me to relocate to a land far, far away. Seriously! How dare he pursue a great opportunity with a growing company. How dare he make me relocate to a condo with a view of the Pacific Ocean.
Recapping: I did not want to move to effing California.
Also: I am a brat.
San Diego – the most beautiful city in the U.S. San Diego – the place with perfect weather. Just ask any San Diegan, they will tell you how perfect the place is. Infinity minus one people would trade places with me in a minute. So what’s the matter with me? Why can’t I shake this negativity? And why can’t I stop complaining?
The following are my reasons for hating life in California:
1. It is not Chicago. When people ask me how I could stand living in Chicago with the terrible weather (you see, San Diegans are OBSESSED with weather) I say that no one lives in Chicago because of the weather, they live there in spite of the weather because it has so many, many other fabulous qualities.
2. California is far, far away from almost all of my family and friends. I miss them terribly.
3. I am sun averse. I will not be learning to surf or paddle board or hang out at the beach. Our family has had a long and storied relationship with skin cancer. Last week I was diagnosed with a wee bit of skin cancer on the same day my lab results came back showing I suffer from low vitamin D. Well now that’s a pickle. I’m damned if I sun and damned if I don’t.
Don’t you feel sorry for me? Isn’t this a gut-wrenching nightmare of an existence?
Or just a pity party, table for one.
As part of Liv Lane’s e-course, How To Build a Blog You Truly Love, we were assigned to write a brave post – something that we wouldn’t normally share, something that forced us to step out of our comfort zone. That’s what got me thinking about my brattiness.
I’m thankful that Liv challenged us to do this. It has made me take a good look at my inner Veruca Salt (the character from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, not the alternative rock band). Most people think of me as nice and sweet. The truth is, underneath it all I can really be a bitch. And in this case an ungrateful, whiney, bratty bitch.
I’ve wasted a lot of negative energy in the three years we have lived here. Spent a lot of time wallowing in unhappiness rather than appreciating my surroundings. The truly ridiculous part is that this California adventure WILL come to an end and we WILL move back to our beloved Chicago. In the meantime, I go back for frequent visits. I have absolutely nothing to complain about.
Resolved: I will try really, really hard to enjoy life in California. I will try really, really hard to stop complaining especially to my dear husband who just wants to work hard and provide us with a good and happy life. And I WILL be grateful for the gifts in my life – every day.
If I find myself slipping back into my bratty self, I will watch this video and see what happens to girls like me and Veruca. It will remind me to turn my attitude around, lest I end up down the chute with the rotten eggs.
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