I don’t know what to do with my life! I hate thinking about the prospect of working 9-5….forever. I have been on the grind for a little while, but there is so much I need to do and I feel like I am slowly taking years off my life. Of course, for all purposes of practicality, I understand that I should be grateful to be employed. Sometimes though, I really feel like I will be okay if I went off on my own path, found my own voice. Any advice?
Mid-afternoon Metaphors September 26, 2008
I just poured clear soda into my cup and watched bubbles form from nothing in the bottom where they sat stationary for ten seconds before quickly rising to the top. They gain speed and float towards each other, but as soon as they touch, they burst into nothing again. Funny what people and bubbles have in common.
Time’s a ticking, and we’re letting it September 12, 2008
Another work week came and went. It’s interesting-when we’re 12 all we want to be is 16 and when we’re 16 we want to be 21. As I round out my last few days of being 21, I would trade in my driver’s license and big girl bra to be 12 again.
Even now, when all I want to do is clutch onto the small hours where I can browse the web or watch tv and talk to my friends, I count down the hours when I’m at work. Just like when I was 12, waiting for my teenagerdom to begin.
While in our last semester of college, my friend and I had a system while we were at our useless internships that brought us nothing but infinite boredom. We would IM each other with affirmations we concocted such as, “the second hour is approaching, just six more to go,” as if it made those six hours any easier.
As I think about my commute to work and the gloriousness of today marking the end of the work week, I can’t help noticing that yes, I am excited to count down the work week, but that also means I just blissfully counted away 7 days of my own existence. 7 days of being a young 21.
Pretty soon I’ll be pushing 35, big bellied and making pot roast somewhere in a little town, wearing fuzzy Joyce Leslie pink slippers (the horror, the horror!) and I’ll be cursing myself for not enjoying my twenties. For merrily looking forward to each weekend instead of just taking advantage of what I have now: no responsibilities, no kids, no problem. Also, my breasts are still perky and I have no mortgage to pay. Or rent for that matter (thanks mom, sorry I made fun of your slippers).
But you know what? Regardless of how I feel that my youth is slipping away from me, I still thank god it’s Friday.
Taking Back Sunday September 7, 2008
Sunday mornings…a time of solace, reflection.
Some people go to church, some people take walks, some people sleep in-hoping that Monday will not creep in on them if they keep those eyes shut tight.
No matter what you do on your Sunday, Sunday’s can be the best day of the week if you let them be.
As fall approaches, men will grunt and yell at their televisions as their favorite teams pummel each other over an oval shaped symbol of Americana. Mothers will unite at grocery store check-out lines buying sandwich meat and assorted juice boxes to start off the week. Children will try to play outside, catch up on homework, feign an illness–anything to prolong these days of solitude known as “The Weekend” for just a few more hours. But all these activities are better than sulking around wishing away the start of the work week–as Monster would put it–”Fighting off the Mondays.”
I enjoy my Sunday.
I get up early(ish), take a long walk and appreciate the changes of the leaves right before the official start of fall. I might do a round of pilates in my room, meet up with my best friend at the mall, cook a little, and just relax with a bottle of white wine and crackers while watching HGTV.
I have no problem telling anyone who spends Sunday complaining about what’s ahead that this is your last moment of “me-time,” your last few hours of worry-free splendor. Why waste it anticipating what’s to come? When it comes to us working girls, we only get 48 hours to run away from our hectic work lives. A time to get away from politics, Google News, and all things job-related. So just enjoy it. It’ll be another 120 hours before you get to do it again.
With that being said, I’m off to embrace my day, welcome it with arms wide open (and maybe hit up a sale or two, after all, girl’s gotta shop!).
What are you doing with your day?
