I spent a large part of this weekend wondering why I ever left Seattle. I miss it – everything about it, except for the slugs. I miss my friends and the weather and the water and the way that the streets never quite run in a straight line. I miss the yummy coffee and salmon and sushi. I miss my beloved Wallingford. I miss the smell of the air. I really, really miss Lake Union.

Mostly, I miss the fact that I am KNOWN in Seattle. I don’t have to explain my back-story, and I don’t feel like I have to be “on” in order to make people like me. In Seattle, I feel like I belong.

But that is not to say that I need to be living there right now. I DO belong there. But maybe I can belong other places, too.

I arrived back at my little Nashville abode tonight, and I breathed a big ol’ sigh of relief. I rolled in my suitcases and checked the mailbox and spent a little while unpacking. It’s nice to be back home.

Home.

This is my “for right now” home. And even though things may not be as easy or natural for me here right now, I am glad that I came. I’m glad that I’m here. Nashville is great, and the people that I have been meeting here are wonderful, and this is where I am for right now.

What am I going to do with this time?

Graham and I are in Seattle for the weekend. Since moving to Nashville, I have been traveling every-other-weekend or so, and it makes me feel very important and glamorous, like I’m a woman about town, a woman on a mission, a woman with frequent flier miles.

Actually, this trip IS courtesy of my Rapid Rewards account through Southwest. With my loyalty to this airline, I should be Southwest’s mascot. I should be on the cover of Spirit Magazine, with my own monthly column. I would write about all of the reasons that I love Southwest, including the friendly service, non-assigned seating, red and purple airplanes, and Ritz Cracker Cheese Sandwiches.

I would also give advice. People could write in and ask me questions, and I would exude my sage, time-tested wisdom. They could ask about anything.

For example, if someone wrote to me and said,
Annie,
I love amusement parks! They’re so fun. But I have a problem. It’s against the rules to bring a lunch with you – and I don’t want to spend $12 on a corndog. Any ideas?
-Starving at Six Flags

My response – from my own experience, of course – would be,
Dear Starving,
Amusement parks are great! The rollercoasters, the tourists, the frozen lemonade… Here is my tried-and-true process for sneaking in a lunch. Pack your hoagie sandwiches at the bottom of your backpack. Cover them with a sweatshirt. Cover the sweatshirt with about 17 tampons. When you are in the security line, find the most awkward adolescent-looking security guard, and go through his line. He will open your pack and promptly close it without digging.
-Annie

It would be such a successful column! Useful, shrewd, and fun for the whole family. I will ponder this possibility.

In the meantime, I am making sure that Graham gets an authentic Northwest experience. So far,
1) Seafood – check.
2) Coffee – check.
3) Rain – check.

I give up.

Regular string cheese is so much better than the light version.

It’s time to talk about the hazards of the workplace.

When I began my career as The Temptress, I was given an exhaustive Workplace Safety Training session, which included watching a VHS made in 1987 about proper lifting techniques and the operation of heavy machinery. As I was not planning on a job in a warehouse, and thus felt I could disregard the section on safety goggles and hard-hats, I admittedly zoned out. But perhaps in doing so I missed any instruction they might have included about the risks of the administrative occupation?

One of my very few responsibilities in my very receptionisty job is to offer our very infrequent visitors beverages. I am the Czarina of the Single-Brew Coffee Machine, as well as Princess Pop Can. But a few weeks ago, when I dropped a Diet Sprite on the marble floor right between my feet, and it sprayed STRAIGHT UP MY SKIRT to YOU KNOW WHERE, I lost all confidence in my drink-serving abilities.

High heels are not conducive to flushing the toilet with your foot. My right red pump has since been significantly Lysol-ed.

But for all of the minor incidents that happen within the 4 sound-deadening walls of the office, the most dangerous place of all is the elevator.

The elevator is an environment not for the faint of heart, especially for us top-floor workers. When I get on the elevator, I am ON THE ELEVATOR; most likely, I will be the last one OFF the elevator. And so, before every boarding, I take a deep breath, and then rapidly find a spot as close to the wall as possible. Unfortunately, the elevators in my building are mirrored on every surface, and so no matter where I plant my eyes in hopes of avoiding eye contact with another, inevitably I will meet someone’s eyes in a reflection. And then all 4 eyeballs quickly and nervously re-orient to watch the numbers take us up up up.

Office workers are weird. Objectively, I know that they must be smart and driven people, meeting their monthly sales’ goals, signing deals, and driving out at night in their Mercedes convertibles. They are successful and put-together and motivated. But crowd 12 business suits into an elevator together, and you can smell the tension. Everyone is uncomfortable, from the CEO to the lowly receptionist. Intelligent humans in stale silence.

Of course, every now and then, some hopeful soul cracks a joke into the social abyss. But when that hopeful soul is my co-worker, and the joke is about the latest in airline security…

And then I sat down at my oversized mahogany desk and, eyebrows lifted to high heaven, drank a steaming cup of AWKWARD.

At the risk of sounding internet-nerderly, I have a very sweet blog community. Thank you all, because for reasons beyond my understanding, you continue to return to this little blog every day and sprinkle me with your thoughts and support and prayers and humor.

Today my spirit feels a little bit plugged in. Is it possible to be “a little bit plugged in”? Is that like “kind of pregnant”? Well, regardless, thank you for existing out there in cyberspace.