The Significance of a Salad

How is it October 1 already? How is that possible?

And - more importantly - why is it still a thousand degrees on a daily basis in Denver? I'm sweating as I type this. It's ridiculous. One cannot sip a Pumpkin Spice Latte in peace.

I can't even showcase my beautiful new hair because I'm too busy yanking it back into a ponytail.

Also? I think I biked to work a whopping total of one day in all of September. Maybe two days. So much for my lofty goals. I haven't given up yet, though. I'm riding tomorrow!

But, life goes on.

The little salad that started it all...

I had an epiphany - yes, really - over my salad yesterday at lunch. It requires some context, so here you go.

In the last job I had before I gave up my career - and all paychecks worthy of the name - I ate a lot of Caesar salads. Like, a lot. Like, most days of the week. The place where I worked was swanky and I directly supported the head honchos and consequently when they ordered out for lunch (read: every day) so did I. I got like 3 years' worth of free lunches. Which explains the weight gain. But, I digress. Mostly, I ordered a Caesar salad. It was tasty and simple and easy to eat while typing or presenting or taking notes, and I just fell into a habit.

The years that I worked that job - including the first year in Denver - were rough. There was a lot going on personally and professionally, and most of it led up to The Big Decision To Switch Careers. As it happens, for no particular reason, in the last couple of years I haven't eaten a ton of Caesar salads. I was out of the habit, life changed significantly, and I never thought of it again (why would I?) until yesterday.

As usual, yesterday was crazy busy. In addition to teaching, working, and attending class as a student, I presented a workshop, met with my graduate advisor (one more year, baby), and met with the prof I grade for (<-- for whom I grade :) and picked up the latest slew of papers. I was exhausted before I got out of bed yesterday morning. No complaints, just a dose of reality for the introvert.

But!! My class went well, then the workshop went great, then the rest of work was a dream. When I met with my advisor (he was my instructor for the Willa Cather class) we talked about my schedule for next semester and he told me he's excited to have "a student of my caliber" in his class again. Then, then!!!! I got an A on a class paper (thank you, GOD) and when I went to pick up the papers to grade, my prof "supervisor" told me he's impressed with my "perception and insight."

It was too much. As I sat down outside to wolf down a meal, I all of a sudden realized that it was the infamous lunch of my "old life," of my "old career."

As I was eating, I wasn't stressing out or questioning everything about my life. I wasn't being attacked by coworkers or in depression because Papa had died. I wasn't contemplating a big move. I wasn't contemplating leaving one entire way of life and starting something brand new.

I ate my salad and thought of allegory in The House of the Seven Gables and the lesson plan for next week and switching up projects and presentations I'm leading. I thought of the upcoming fall brunch and making a vet appointment for Lucy and watching the Hogs play football.

And that salad tasted so, so good.