What Are You Doing Here?

One of my favorite professors from law school came into the coffee shop the other day.

“Well, hello!” she exclaimed. “What are you doing… here…?” she inquired, head cocked.

I quickly launched into my go-to explanation:

“After law school, I decided to get my Master’s in bioethics. So I am working here part-time and finishing my thesis right now.”

Never mind that that’s only a fraction of the story. What’s the real story? Why am I, a J.D. with a plethora of varied work experience, slinging Joe?

It occurred to me, sometime over the past few weeks, that my foray back into the service industry might be more than just a desire for simplicity. I have been trying to prove something to myself. You see, as a twenty-something “functional” problem drinker, I did a piss-poor job of meeting the expectations of a coffee shop barista. I was often late. Nearly always hung over. Surly. Angry. Unpleasant to work with. I didn’t play nicely with my coworkers and I snarled at customers. It wasn’t pretty.

Since sobering up, I’ve embarked on a number of “living amends.” The shame, the unbelievable shame that accompanied me everywhere I went, slowly gave way to a series of realizations. I had stopped showing up for my life. I was a sorry excuse for a dog owner. I rarely picked up my phone or returned calls. I often flaked on plans with friends and family. I procrastinated until I was so anxious, I could barely function. I spent more time under the covers, avoiding what I felt like was a collection of unbearable, undesirable, unmanageable situations. In a nutshell, I had stopped. I was stuck. In isolation. In misery.

Once I committed myself to a new way, a different path, in recovery, it was time to do. To do my life. Not hide from it. Be the dog owner I know I am in my heart. Care for my pets. Make plans with others and stick to them. Give a call now and again. Use my bed for sleep, not life avoidance. Engage with others, with myself. Show up– at work and school, in friendships and other relationships. Live.

How I conduct myself at the coffee shop today is light years away from the barista of my drinking years. I arrive for my shifts, on time, and, with only a couple exceptions, a positive attitude. I greet people with a smile. I try, I really try, to never roll my eyes. I let the piddly crap roll off my back. In essence, I am, every day, proving to myself that I am different. I can do this.

At the same time, I must confess… the “novelty” of the barista role has worn off. I have tired of waking at 4:30 am. The freedom that comes with a “leave work at work” job doesn’t make up for the lack of intellectual and spiritual stimulation. In a nutshell, I am bored. B.O.R.E.D. And when I get bored, I get cranky. Majorly crabbypants actually.

But, rather than just quitting and jumping into the next thing– how I operated for many years– I am slowing down. I am putting out feelers for other positions, for sure, however I am also considering using this time, channeling the “brain space” not utilized at work and its accompanying anxiety into finishing my thesis.

I think this is an opportunity. I have realized that my life’s calling is not to serve coffee and lemon poppyseed bread and I have recognized that completing my Master’s program is integral to my self esteem. Beyond that, I don’t really have to know. I just continually ask the Universe, Universe, what the f**k am I supposed to be doing with my life? One of these days, it will be clear.

In the meantime, I live. And I finish what I start. Before moving on to the next thing.

Peace and love to all.