Writer's Block: Places to Lay Your Head

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I was born in Findlay, Ohio at Blanchard Valley Hospital. Lived in a nice house pretty close to the hospital, just around the corner from my grandparents. That house burned to the ground a few years after we moved out.

Our next house was on Hillcrest Ave. on the other side of town. I lived there until I was almost 10. Then my parents decided to move to Columbus, and my brothers and I temporarily lived with our grandparents.

1985 - Columbus, Ohio! Clinton Street, in a duplex in a really crappy neighborhood. We didn't live there long. We moved to the west suburbs later that year - Lincoln Village. First we lived in Yarmouth Lane and then we moved to Sturbridge (both single-family homes). This covered my residences from ages 10-16. Then my parents separated and my Mom and I moved into an apartment. I lived there until after high school. Then my mom met my stepdad and they bought a house together and I moved in with my dad, back to the house on Sturbridge.

In 1995, I got an apartment on the eastside of Columbus with a roommate. Awful neighborhood. My roommate and I worked two jobs (both of our jobs were at the same place, so we were constantly together) to pay the rent. I didn't live there long either...less than a year. I sublet and moved in with my mom and stepdad until I went back to college in early 1996.

Then I lived with my paternal grandmother in a trailer home in Van Buren, Ohio while I commuted to Bowling Green State University, spending a brief time again with my grandparents in Findlay. My second semester, I rented a room in a boarding house near campus.

Then I transferred to Ohio State, living with my mom and stepdad again, who were by then living in a house on Maribeth Place in Grove City, OH. I stayed there until I got my own apartment on Chambers Avenue in 2000, close to OSU campus. I had already graduated from OSU at that point. I was working at nearby Chemical Abstracts.

I lived at that apartment for a year. I moved back in with my mom and stepdad for a few months, until I moved down to Oxford, OH for grad school. I lived in a townhouse-style apartment there on Locust St. for 2 years. Moved back in with the parents again until Lance and I got married and we moved to Germany (by this time, they were living in another house on Cypress Creek Drive...just down the street from where they live now).

Two houses in Germany: one in Kreuzrath on Hauptstrasse. The other in Schierwaldenrath on Am Bahnhof.

And now here...in Kent, Washington.

Least favorite - probably my room at the boarding house. Awful roommates and I never had any privacy.

Most favorite - the house in Schierwaldenrath. I loved it so much. Except for all the spiders. I think I have the best memories there. Lance and I were so happy in Germany.

Gratifying

It's been difficult to tell my clients that I resigned. I spend so much time working with a person, getting to know the ins and outs of their account. In some cases, we've discussed bits of our personal lives with each other. I've even exchanged photographs and met some of them. I know about their spouses, kids, dogs, cats, vacations, etc. These are people I look forward to talking to every week, every other week, every month. My largely stressful and thankless job is made just a little bit easier from their kind words, from the way they remember something I told them about in a previous conversation, or just by the way they enthusiastically welcome my call (after all, I am responsible for ensuring they/their employees get paid).

Of course, this doesn't apply to all my clients, but many of them, anyway. Some of my clients have no idea who I am. They don't really care. They just want someone to do their payroll. And that's cool too. Others have no contact with me because they fax or email their payroll and don't connect me to a voice. Those are not people who would be concerned that I'm leaving. Some clients are fairly new to me, and we haven't established a rapport. Other clients have been difficult, with repeated miscommunications and mistakes on both sides. And there are still other clients that just don't care enough to establish a rapport with me, even though we've talked to each other for over a year. I've carefully chosen who I'm going to tell (hint: not the people I just mentioned in this paragraph). Most of my clients will find out when they get a phone call from their new specialist.

So far, the response has been overwhelming. Clients are sad that I'm leaving, but they have nothing but the nicest things to say. About how much I've cared for them as people and for their success with their business. They've been curious about what I'm going to do now. They've asked a lot of questions. They are incredibly impressed when I tell them that I wrote professionally before and that I will be doing so again. A few even asked for my personal email address so they can continue to stay in touch. One client that I spoke with today was really interested in reading stuff that I've had published in the past, so I sent him a few links to my previous work. They are, naturally, concerned that their next payroll specialist won't be as meticulous, as cooperative, as...well, as one of my clients said to me yesterday, I have big shoes for their next specialist to fill.

It's gratifying to hear all this. To know that I did the best that I could. That I did right by my clients. Despite how miserable I've been all along, I still did a damn good job for most of them. I came into contact with some really wonderful and interesting people and I will miss them. And it's humbling for me to finally understand that many of these clients cared about me as a human being, and not just as the person who issued their checks. They've wished me well. One urged me to "Go get 'em, tiger!" They've been supportive, encouraging and very very kind. If I shed any tears at all about leaving, it will be because of this.