I'm in this weird place right now. Straddling a metaphorical fence if you will. A fence between the old Ashley, the Olympia Ashley, and the new Ashley, the ALASKAN MOTHER FUCKING ASHLEY WHO EATS BEARS FOR DINNER.
Sometimes living in my head is like hanging out in the middle of a skitzo meltdown.
Sorry, none of this makes sense to anyone but me…
For six years I was a Seattleite. Lived, breathed SEATTLE. Honestly thought I'd live there for ever and ever and ever. Then overnight I found myself changing up the game and packing my life and moving south to itty-bitty Olympia where suddenly I was living with my boyfriend in the middle of stepfordwives suburbia. In one month I had moved out of a major city, left my carefree twentysomething life and career behind, bought a fucking house, got a dog, and shacked up with some dude I'd known for a year.
Talk about some change people.
The lack of any real twentysomething social life like we'd had in Seattle meant we sort of introverted our lives into this home we now owned. We spent what money we had on new tile, or light fixtures. Fixing the fence, power washing the sidewalk, washing cars, installing gardens. Most Friday nights we'd sit in the kitchen, just the two of us, because again, not too many friends, talking about what kitchen cabinets we'd install, or tile we'd want, or what kind of hardwood floors we'd put on our first floor. And this was a ROCKING FRIDAY NIGHT.
So before I knew it I thought this is who I was. Ashley, the lady who gardens, stays at home most of the time, cooks a lot, doesn't really go out, and focuses on my home #1. I sort of accepted that overnight I'd become 45 years old.
I'm sure you know where this is going.
Then BAM. We moved to Alaska.
House left behind for renters to destroy, and suddenly we became renters.
Now my brain has no idea what to do. I find myself on one hand wanting to go back to the nesting Olympian I was. I want to replace the deck, put in new grass in the backyard, research ways to still garden in Alaska, stay in watching movies and drinking wine every Friday and Saturday night, in bed by 11:30. Then the other side of me that is adapting to this new Alaska life is like, "BITCH, WE DON'T OWN THIS PLACE. Use your money for nights out, cocktails, trips, fucking anything other than fixing up this place you don't own."
Suddenly we're getting 1/2 off martini's downtown on a WORK NIGHT. Who am I???? Hanging out with friends till 3am on a Saturday. Generally being ridiculous people in our twenties without children, but the 45 year old in me that took over while we lived in Olympia is standing there being all judgy and wants to know if after I finish my 5th beer for the night if I'm going to be able to get up nice and early Sunday morning to mow the lawn.
And I both hate 45 year old Ashley, and also kind of love and miss her?
Every day I flip.
One day I'll be researching a new trip, hiking gear, vacation houses in amazing places I can't wait to visit. The next I read an article about aquaponics and I'm trying to find any way I can to bring 45 year old Ashley back and create this fucking awesome gardening world in my own home.
I don't know if there's really much of a point here except to say I'm in this strange strange middle world and I'm not sure where this will all settle exactly. I'm no longer the nesting Ashley I became in Olympia, but I'm also not fully invested in the adventurer-no-roots-rental life of Alaskan Ashley either.
Basically I'm very confused, have 12 conflicting interests, and if tomorrow I talk about how excited I am to install an aquaponics gardening system in my backyard, and then the day after that I talk about how I've abandoned the dream for a fly in rental cabin in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness, remember that I'm just as lost as you are.
Probably more so.