Let me first say that my life in Chicago is a direct result of Louisa getting pregnant. What? How can a friend’s (who now lives hundreds of miles away) first pregnancy have such an effect on my life?
Here is the timeline.
I move to Chicago well into Louisa’s pregnancy, but don’t yet know her.
I spend a month searching for a job.
Late one night, I update my alumni information at www.iesabroad.org.
A day later I recieve an email that is clearly from a real person at IES.
I write back and send my resume, begging for a temporary position.
Amy walks it over to Louisa who is 8 months pregnant desperately searching for someone to cover her maternity leave.
On Monday I am at work.
By the time Louisa comes back, I have been offered a full time position and stay at IES.
IES sends me to London and I miss Chicago and the shop.
I move back, resign from IES and start working at the shop.
All because Louisa got pregnant. Pretty cool, huh? Well, now she is pregnant with her second child and has a green card and a white picket fence in Kansas City. And me? Working full time at a shop that is on the cusp of something major and I get to go with it.
It was great to catch up with Louisa this weekend. First of all (selfishly) she has had a lot of success on WW, as have I. When I saw her, I couldn’t get over how great she looked. Suddenly I kind of realized that I must look okay now.
Then there is the part that we are very similar in our friendships and relationships with men. It is kind of like looking through the looking glass when I look at her life. Perhaps if I spent less time wallowing in my brain and more time just living, our paths would be more similar. I could be married, in argentina, chasing after little footballers and drinking mate.
However, I’m not. I am the happiest I’ve ever been. On my own, working for a great company, writing sporadically, taking improv classes, going on bad dates, studying spirituality, tossing cat toys across the hardwood floors. I’m becoming an Aunt for the fourth time and trying to become a better letter writer, as I’ve been slacking the last few years.
A year ago, my weight was the one thing I was unhappy with (that I had control over.) While I haven’t reached goal, I am in much better shape, much stronger, much thinner. All around a better catch. I am happy with my work, happier than I’ve ever been. No, I’m not forming a union or rocking the vote, but I’m making little kids happy. That’s okay.
It is nearly noon and I haven’t had my sunday brunch, so I need to put this on hold. Long story short, it was great to see Louisa.