Sequoia

Even though I had a weekend to refresh, I still don't like being an accountant. I had a 9:30 meeting to discuss how to record purchasing pesos and recording them in USD. It is a good that  I am part of the conversation so I am aware and can give input to the process. I just would rather be the one spending the money than recording it.

Now I'm gearing up for Q2 close. Every quarter, I truly forget how much work goes into the two-week process. There are so many reviews. I understand we have controls. I understand we are under GAAP. I understand the reporting deadlines. I understand that I have the security of knowing when I'll be busy. I understand I have the dream accounting job.

But it is not what I want anymore. My heart is somewhere across the country, away from spreadsheets and reconciliations.

We stayed at an AirBnB on Lake Kaweah, which was just 6 miles from the entrance to Sequoia National Park. The drive from Los Angeles was peaceful and not as windy as the drive up Big Bear Mountain. Lake Kaweah is massive. The sun was setting as I drove up to the AirBnB. I stopped to take in the view. The sun's reflection on the lake is exactly the spectacular ephemeral moment I wrote about in my Phantom story. The following day, the wind blew my hat into the water, and I chased after it, which is another moment in that story. From the page to reality.

The park was well maintained. Roads were smooth. We waited in line for 30 minutes to enter the park. When we were inside, the drivers revealed their worry about running out of gas. The dial was on E. We only had 40 miles left, but we were going uphill. We were cutting it very close. One of my greatest fears when driving Route 66 was running out of gas in the middle of nowhere. Word to the wise: always check and have a full tank before the next adventure. The law of attraction aka the SECRET came to play. We saw a tow truck assisting another car. We were able to get some gas, much to the relief of the people in the front seat.

I did expect the trees to be taller. I must have been thinking about Redwoods. Still, I was grateful for the fresh air and to be away from the city where the pandemic is always in my face.

Flight to NYC

This would have been moving week. The Tony's were meant to be this past Sunday. Being a seatfiller didn't seem like an easy possibility, so I'd watch from home and then move on Monday. But I never bought that one way ticket due to covid-19.

Yet, my calendar had this:

Did I book a flight without realizing it? I checked my covid spreadsheet, which lists all my cancelled travel. It wasn't there. I clicked on the email attached to the confirmation to figure it all out. A vendor mistakenly emailed over their flight itinerary with some invoices. It's their flight, not mine. It's just a coincidence that it's an LA to NY flight.

It's okay. I'll book that one way ticket eventually. I chatted with a friend yesterday. Somehow, she understood my motivations for wanting to change even though I have the "dream job." I did everything I was supposed to do and now I want to fuck shit up. She encouraged me to set boundaries, barter my tangible skill of accounting, and be open.

It makes me wonder whether people expect me to give up on this. But I guess that doesn't matter. It matters that I'm determined to go and make this leap.

Wish me happy landing

All I gotta do is JUMP

George Floyd

George Floyd's name, his story, his video has sparked a movement. The outrage has surfaced, but racism unfortunately isn't new. Black people live with an unjust history. My heart is heavy watching it all unfold.

On one hand, it's amazing how the black community and its allies are rallying together. The conversation continues. He is not forgotten. People stand together and acknowledge how barbaric those policemen were.

On the other hand, it's terrifying to see the protests turn violent, property being destroyed, and mass gatherings in the age of corona virus. Also, when will justice be served?

I want the world to change. I have asked myself what can I do to contribute to making a difference. Personally, it's hard to admit that I feel out of place. I don't stand with the enemy, but I don't feel right speaking on behalf of the heroes black community. I'm not black and I will never fully comprehend the suffering they go through. But I empathize so hard for my black friends, for my nephews, for the celebrities I admire, for those who do good in the world.

Seriously, who the fuck thought it was okay to make them slaves all those years ago? Why is that ingrained in human DNA and brain cells? How do we repay the community for years of repression? How many steps forward before we people stop taking steps back?

I'm putting this out there because it makes me uncomfortable. And if it makes you feel uncomfortable talking about it, I get it. It doesn't mean you can't talk about it. More people need to talk. More people need to learn. More people need to empathize. Something so small, when performed by millions of people will make change.