Life’s a soap opera. (And I’m just changing channels)

The cleanliness of my room serves as a direct reflection of my current lifestyle situation. When my room is neat, tidy, orderly– my life usually follows suit. It’s not a for sure thing. But it’s a pretty accurate portrayal. 

So anyway, with that in mind, my room kind of looks like a shit storm right now.

this is not my actual room. but sadly, it's relevant.

I haven’t done laundry in a week and a half. I need to clean my kitchen. I need to make my bed. I need to do all of these things but when I come back at night, I just don’t have the motivation, energy or really.. the heart to do it. And because it’s bound to come out anyway, and you’re all dying to know what’s going on in the life and times of the fabulous, beach-dwelling, rich and famous hangout lifestyle of Nanny Meg, I might as well just say it. 

BUT WAIT! ….Not quite yet. 

It’s been 2 whole months since I moved out to beautiful cali-for-ni-a. Which I personally feel is enough time to really sit back and reevaluate some things. With this said, some self reflection was bound to occur, and I feel like it’s time to be honest with myself and just come out and say… it’s just really not working.   

Don’t get me wrong, I love LA! I plan on living here many, many more years to come. California looks good on me. And the people and atmosphere is something that I have come to love. I love it so much I just want to suck up every square inch and immerse myself entirely within it. 

me and la.. we was like peas and carrots.

But the grass is ALWAYS greener on the other side. Right? I’m sure my life looks fantastic to many of you. And yes, on paper, working for two European fashion designers as their nanny in beautiful Malibu, California sounds pretty damn awesome. I live right next to a beach. I work with two amazing kids. I sit next to Cindy Crawford during theatre practice for crying out loud. What’s not to love?! 

…Let me start by saying, this is not going to be an episode of my life where I write an article entitled, “why my employers are crazy austrian slave drivers”. I refuse to drop to some kind of hypercritical disgruntled employee level where I nitpick exactly where things went wrong, and where things weren’t communicated, and where I was treated wrongly, poorly, unfairly etc. etc. {Though for entertainment purposes, some small highlights include -but are not limited to- “bringing my $%&# boyfriend to the beach” and also a particularly loud vociferous monologue involving buying the wrong kind of (insert f-bomb here) oatmeal}

Because no, I think I am better than that. Which is what also makes this so hard to write. It’s hard to admit that things aren’t going as planned. That in many ways, you feel like you have failed. That you had an idea of how things were supposed to turn out, and they not only don’t go that way, but do a complete 180 and land your life right in the middle of a potentially bigger problem than you left with. That sure, the grass is greener on the other side, but if you’re also in charge of watering, weeding, mowing and coddling said grass into looking that way, that kind of defeats the purpose. 

So, I think I’ve skirted around the issue enough at this point. I’m leaving Malibu. I’m leaving the family I work with. Being a live-in nanny for this family is not a walk in the park. It’s not an easy job. Momentary perks aside, working for people from a different country with different expectations and standards for what is customary in their home, is a challenging and frustrating (and honestly, occasionally miserable) experience. And I am sick and tired of pretending otherwise. Of sweeping each little indignity under the table. And in the immortal words of Julia Johnson:

“These people sound cray…Sounds like you need to get out of there and they should to get themselves a very grateful illegal immigrant.

And so with that blessing, that’s exactly what I am doing. I quit. Life’s too short to spend it being unhappy. If I think I can do better and deserve better than where I am, then I’m going to be the one who falls on their sword, admit that things went wrong, and focus on trading up for the next round.  I’m a big believer in viewing each situation in my life as, how can I learn from this instead of why is this happening to me. It’s easy to see yourself as a victim. But that’s not what I’m about. Every failed relationship I’ve ever had I try to get something out of. Maybe that person wasn’t right for me. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t learn something from him or her. They still made me who I am today. And I’d like to think that makes me a better person than I was yesterday.

And finally…I take condolence in the fact, that many, many successful people failed continuously before succeeding. And why can’t I be one of those people? I am going to continue to do things my own way. I suck at ironing. I buy the wrong kind of oatmeal. I don’t mop. I make messes. Peace out Austrian Fashion Designers. I’m sorry I failed you… but not really. Because I learned a lot about myself from this experience. And I’ll do it better next time. 

Mostly….I’m going to miss Luis. That little boy was/is my best friend. He didn’t ask for this and he’s going to suffer the worst because of it. And that’s not fair to him. I wish there was more I could do/say in that regard. But sometimes, you have to be selfish and look out for yourself. And it hurts that he has to suffer because of that. I’ll miss you so much Lou.

And so that’s that. The cold truth all the way from sunny CA. A little message from the other side of the fence. That it didn’t work out. But I’m not defeated.. because guess what LA? I’m not going down that easy. I’m here to stay. 

And now I know what the question is that is on all your minds. 


So what’s next Meg? 

Wellllll Wouldn’t you like to know?

I guess you’ll just have to..


Peace, love and gypsy living..



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