A Study in Feeling Useless

I am a smart person. I received straight A's throughout high school, triple-majored in undergrad, and finished my PhD in four and a half years. I am fluent in German, functional in Spanish, and have been teaching myself French since May. I have a black belt in taekwondo and am a certified personal trainer. I accomplish things. It is what I do.

Now I spend every day feeling useless.

I know this isn't the castle-laden Europe-fest everyone is hoping for, but it is the truth of how I have been passing my days. It is something for which I, apparently, have no coping mechanism.

The first issue is that I do not speak French. I can make a reservation, pay for food, and catch the bus to get where I am going; but that is where my general effectiveness ends. When my phone stopped working a week after we bought it, I had to wait for Kris to go back to the store. When I tried to call to set up appointments for viewing apartments, I made it as far as the opening question before the flurried French in response left me confused or hung-up-on. Most frequently when I ask a worker at a government agency whether they speak any German or English, they simply stare me down and say, "Non."

Beyond this is the fact that finding an apartment here is hard. At the best, it will take weeks. For many, it takes months. Kris and I have each been living out of a carry-on suitcase since the end of July and it is starting to grate. At the moment we are living out of a French couple's living room and store any food that we don't refrigerate next to the bed. Despite the awkwardness and size we have adapted rather well. Unfortunately, the landlord wants us out in a matter of days. We have no desire to become a problem for our hosts.

The crux of all of these issues, though, is the lack of control. If I knew I had to live out of a suitcase for another month - fine. If I knew it would take 20 more applications - ok. If I knew that some aspect of how I spent my days was actually bringing us closer to having a roof that could stay over us for more than a week, I could do it. I would throw myself at it. But that isn't what is happening. With each rejection and each botched phone call it doesn't feel closer; it feels pointless. I actually find myself to be motivated less, and that is somewhere I have never been.

I also don't have a job. While this does result in an abundance of free time, it means that I spend all of that time with nothing of value to do. When you don't have somewhere to live, any other pursuit feels like thumb-twiddling.

This may sound like a string of complaints, but that is not my intent. This blog is supposed to be a faithful representation of what everyone has been calling our little "European Adventure" for the last six months. Right now, this is what that adventure has come to be. Yes, the buildings I walk past are beautiful. Yes, there are crepes being sold on cobblestone plazas and freshly baked bread at every meal. There are lakes and mountains and an abundance of wine. But at the moment, all that really sinks in is the logistics.

I keep trying to come up with some cheerful anecdote to share with everyone, to write about going to the museum or finding the wooden tower that gave a panoramic view of the whole city, but at the moment it feels forced. I want to enjoy writing about those things. I want to make you smile. But today, after another day of applications and rejections, I felt like sharing this side of the adventure. Hopefully this part of it will be over soon.

I know that there are people who have it vastly worse than I do: I am educated, I have enough money, and I am married to the man who makes my soul better. I am not about to die. But I have spent the past two weeks feeling useless, and apparently, to me, that really matters.

Thank you for the love and well-wishes. Hopefully we will have a crepe soon.

Until next time,
Amanda