Thursday!  Get excited, you hardworking, driven, fantastical, (is that a word?) 9-5, slightly miserable, caffeine addicted, people. See what I did there? No, but really, it’s Thursday! We should be excited that the most teasing day out of the entire week is finally here. And I know what you’re thinking, “Damn, another week is over?” And although I feel as if we should do some type of victory dance because the work week is coming to a close, I also feel like we should be doing some type of life reflection, like, “How in the hell are my years passing me?”

I thought about this as I went out to dinner after work by myself yesterday.  I know, right? What 21 year old goes out to dinner by herself? However, you’d be surprised how peaceful it is to just enjoy a delicious meal, in the quiet spaces of your mind, and just dine. Funny thing is, my meal was shit.  (Here comes the cursing, peeps)

One of my favorite inexpensive, Italian spots in the city is Otto Enoteca. It’s Mario Batali’s lesser version of Babbo, basically it’s .01% of what Babbo is. However, the atmosphere is pleasant, the servers act like they work at Morimoto and the food is pretty great. (But then again, at 21, I think any place that feeds my starving stomach should end up in Zagat)

Before my arrival, I walked through Washington Square Park. It was a beautiful day, people were stopping and staring at the street acts that are always so painful to watch, but you keep looking because you hope for just one second that they do something magnificent that triggers you into giving them a dollar. (That rarely happens) I usually would just run through this park if I were with someone, but I wasn’t, so I sat, put away my addiction called the iPhone, and looked around me. I sat and thought. Thought about why I was alone right now, why I let such a little disappointment upset me so much that I left work early in hopes of visiting a museum, but only to have dinner, by my lonesome. I carried those thoughts with me to dinner and maybe that’s why the food sucked. The pasta was too al dente, and hey, I’m all about Giada’s “al dente” pasta talk, but jeeze, it was like it came straight out of the box and the chef just gave up right then and there. $23.00 later and I was even more upset than when I had arrived.

And then it hit me. Well nothing, really technically “hit” me, but I had a realization; It’s okay. I was beating myself up over feeling sad or upset or lonely or delusional or just the regular pms-ing, when I didn’t even realize that it’s quite alright to have one of “those days.” And this is to all of us. We work, work, work, come home, shower, sleep, then work, work, work, repeat, and fit in some useless hour or two of American Idol to make us feel better. That never does the trick, though, does it? It’s because sometimes we just need to sit back and admit to ourselves that life is pretty damn difficult at times, and yes, when the going gets tough, the tough get tougher, but those tougher people did, at one point, have that lonesome dinner where they wanted to pull their hair out, cry, argue, and then depart.

We live in such a world where it’s stupid to show such weakness and that’s a problem. I left work about an hour early, which I never do, and the one time I do, I felt as if everyone knew I was upset, and was like, “Look at this naive girl. She can’t even handle her job right now.” And that wasn’t the case. I was at work the next day, (today), at 9 am ready to tackle this Thursday head on. I just needed that moment yesterday to be in tune with my feelings, and possibly a tub of chocolate ice cream. (But only one tub!)

I feel as if us working people don’t realize this until we hit some type of insanity point in our mid 40’s where we’re like, “Holy shit, these kids! My spouse! My mortgage! All of you, disperse this instant!” So here’s my post-teen advice to you working folks: (please take me seriously) learn how to release, to not harbor in anger or confusion, to essentially, “let go.” Even if just for a moment. During your lunch hour, just don’t go run down to your favorite deli and devour your overpriced sandwich, sit down and savor it. When you’re stressed, don’t frantically buzz your already crazed secretary to get you that turbo charged Starbucks drink. Go get it yourself, and during that dreaded two minute walk there, breathe. Plug in some headphones, play your favorite song, (Yes, Rod Stewart’s “Da Ya Think I’m Sexy” counts), buy your drink and finish it outside.

We are human. And it’s okay to confront that demon within us, the one telling us that it’s not okay to be human.

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