Getting soft

So, yesterday I spent the day at a conference of sorts in DC. This conference attendance is bittersweet. On one hand, I get to be out of my office with my husband (who was also in attendance), which makes me ecstatically happy. On the other hand, I have to listen to people talk about things that I don't care about, so that I can become more aware of "current best practices" for a career that I'm not interested in. This makes me depressed because it is taking my life and coloring it with a giant pink hilighter...you need a new career! I'm stuck for the time being doing something I hate. The day was one full of conflicting emotions.

When I first moved to the DC metro area, I lived on the metro line and worked in DC. I had this happy existence where I walked to the metro, rode downtown reading my paper and then walked to my office. I quickly fell into that zone that was so foreign when I first moved here. The one where people around you become invisible and the only focus is the path from point A to B as quickly as possible. I never drove anywhere. Then I changed companies to a location where there is not a metro. The place is in the giant cluster fuck known as Tyson's corner. So now, I learned the wonderful charms of 495 and began to understand the colossal waste of time that is the DC area commute. At least on the metro, you could get some work done, read a book, listen to your ipod and make some productive use of your time. Instead now you just sit. For. Hours. Hours upon hours each week that you will never get back. Ever. Time away from loved ones or hobbies or anything else that might actually be enjoyable.

Anyway, now we live in the truest definition of the suburbs. While it is only around 15 miles from DC, it might as well be one million. People act like they need a weekend off to come visit and we don't go to DC unless something of major importance is happening. Although I still spend plenty of time in traffic, it is a better commute than my prior location. But, I often talk about how much I miss the metro commute. I joke about how it makes you tougher. A survivor.

Yesterday, I was so excited to drive 45 minutes in traffic to park at the metro, so I could ride into DC. I could read the express and walk in flip flops and have my heels in my bag. Listen to my ipod. Be downtown and people watch. All good things. But, what I learned is that I've been weakened by my air-conditioned world of car-parking garage-office cycle. My eyes were once again opened by homeless people that used to be invisible. I heard that 3 people were shot at 1:00 in the afternoon at a metro stop yesterday. The old me would not have been phased by that information. Now, I was consumed by the what ifs. What if that had happened in Chinatown where I was? It could just as easily have happened there.

I guess I'm getting soft.