Begin again.

A conversation between me and Dixie- a good friend from graduate school who is also originally from the Midwest. 

Dixie: "Yesterday was my last day at the coffee shop in South Dakota."

Me: "Oh yeah?"  

Dixie: "Yeah, all the kids were asking me why I was quitting. (Laughing)  I told them I was 29 years old and just got my Masters degree.  I can't keep working at a coffee shop!"

Me:  (Looking at the dogs I was walking)  "You know I'm a dog walker, right?"

But those are the facts.  I'm 31.  Divorced as of a week ago.  Transient for the last ten months.   Working for a dog walking company just like I did six years ago.  

WHAT. THE. FUCK?

This wasn't what I planned!  Are you kidding me?  If you'd told me that after getting my coveted MFA  I'd be back in Minnesota, spending eight months getting divorced, living six of those months in my childhood home and unable to get an interview, let alone a job-I'd have punched you in the throat.  No, really.  I would have.  

WHAT.THE.FUCK.  This is so not what I imagined.  

I got married with the intention of staying married.  Getting my Masters with my brand new husband in Hawaii was meant to be an amazing adventure, a three year long honeymoon, and a great story to tell.  I didn't realize I'd wind up with more stories than I could imagine-but didn't really want to tell. 

Now though?  I have to.  Maybe not with the intention of purging, or clearing the mess of the last three years but with the hope that someone out there will relate to some of my stories, some of the feelings, some of the live I've lived lately. 

So this?  This is about a dog walker/actress/writer/teacher/yogi who is beginning again.  Finding her footing as a single 30-something, and along the way walking a buttload of dogs.