Archives for posts with tag: college

Whenever I speak to my grandmother she always seems to be yearning for the past. My parents divorced a little over two years ago, and while in divorce language that’s pretty fresh, she still talks to me about how she’d come over to our house when we were a family and cook dinner for us every Friday. It was a ritual that she and my family had come to adore. I don’t think about it anymore, only until she mentions it, and a wave of emotions come over me as I remember the beautiful times my family and I used to have together pre-divorce.

While I love to reminisce, my grandmother is a clear reminder of the necessity of the term, “let it go.” We hold on so tightly to the past, afraid of change, and worried that the future won’t be as painted clearly and perfectly like the past, while forgetting that the mere fact that the future is unclear is why it’s always so promising. A future with no limits and no boundaries makes it an endless journey of possibilities. But if we refuse to move forward, if we keep harping on past methods and old ways, that future diminishes right in front of our eyes and we stay frozen in time.

Recently, I’ve learned that letting go is actually not a cowardly move or a betrayal or an act of ungratefulness, but a reason to look deep within ourselves, understand that the past is not what we thought it was, and begin the process of healing. While I’ve undergone a situation in the past few months where I let go of a relationship that was unfulfilling to me, it had occurred to me that all along I had been alongside people who were letting go of situations in their lives that were no longer fulfilling to them.

  • My friend from college who left a job that was getting her nowhere fast for another job that was in alignment with what she wanted to do.
  • My mother who left an unsatisfying marriage of over 25 years and is now the embodiment of female kick-assness.
  • My older brother who decided to begin law school and venture up a mountain of student loans and debt to get him one step closer to his lifelong dream.
  • My younger brother who resisted my parents’ divorce for so long until he understood that my parents sacrificing their own happiness for his own was something that he now owed to them.

In life, we let go not because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s something that we must do.

Lingering, waiting for the right moment, calculating will only postpone the inevitable. We avoid the inevitable which sounds meaningless because the inevitable is just that! Inevitable! So why put it off? Why wait? Rip off the bandage, come to terms with the fear and the pain and the unknown, and let it go. Our minds, our bodies, our souls, heal. There is no X amount of healing time for everyone, but we all eventually heal. Get a jump start on it. If we don’t learn how to let go, life will forcefully intervene and angrily take it away from us anyway. We have to make room for new beginnings and beautiful things. When we use up all of the space in our minds with the past and conflicts and unresolved issues, that space leaves no holes for good to penetrate. We become solid. But when we slowly let go of what is messing with our clarity, we begin to see, we let go, we heal, and then we move on. We’re fluid, again. We had let go…

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For as long as I can remember, I’ve dreamed about living in New York City. When I was younger, my aunt used to take my brothers and cousins and I on day excursions to the city and when night fell and it was time to go, I’d look out the car window, mesmerized by the twinkling lights sure that I was going to end up in one of those Park Avenue apartments. Now, I know, everyone has an obsession with New York City; I’m just relaying mine to you right now. It was such a beautiful dream, and it felt so real to me as I conjured it up in my naive little head. Years later, I wonder why I felt such a calling to New York.

Have you ever thought about the life you envisioned for yourself as a child? What was it? Was it marriage? Was it eight kids? Was it your dream job? Was it a farm? Or was it New York? I feel like we are always having to choose between evergreen and New York.

What I mean by that is life in New York is like a day at an amusement park. You are in this state of constant stimulation. The fun never ends, and when it does, you’re left craving that next piece of sparkle or fulfillment just to tide you over until the next joyride. New Yorkers are addicts. And granted, this New York lifestyle does not pertain to all New Yorkers, but the New York I’m talking about, the one we’ve all always envisioned, is the one I’m referring to. It’s all fun and games until you wake up and understand that the lifestyle of  a New Yorker is one that is so difficult to maintain.

I’m 22 now, and what I wanted when I was gazing up at the city lights in my aunt’s car, is not what I want now. Don’t get me wrong, I want the glitz and the glam of an overpriced apartment on the Upper East Side and the local bodega that sells my favorite ice cream bar, but I also want the green backyard, the quiet, the slowness, and a family to come home to. I could get that in New York, I could. We could have like an inch of green and our dog would probably shit all over it, but we could have it. We could have the quiet, if we soundproofed our walls, and we could have the slowness if we took that slowdown camera affect on the iPhone and applied it to real life. (I pretended I was in The Matrix all the time as a kid) So, yeah, we could have it. I could deal with that dream. But the thing is, that’s not my dream anymore.

I want the porch. And “the porch” to so many people symbolizes the death of all souls everywhere. It symbolizes complacency, boredom, dullness and routine. But, to me, it paints the picture of love, and family, and summer nights, and smiles, and memories, and sitting on that porch, looking across the skyline at the city that never truly was.

New York is still a dream to me, but it’s just one of my dreams. And it plays such a small part in my path to where I’d like to be. I’m saving for an apartment. I’ve got a monetary goal set in mind as well as a time goal set in mind. But it’s not set in stone. New York is like FOMO (fear of missing out). Everyone has got to get here at least once in their life, madly experience it, and then leave it. You tell everyone about it, share your stories, but then you cast it aside because it just never feels real when you’re there. New York just makes me beg for confirmation every day, it makes me beg for validation, it makes me beg for forgiveness for not being all that I can be. It’s that lover we’ve all probably had that never made you feel good enough no matter how hard you tried. And while a push to be a better you is always good, that person took you over the edge, with New York laughing alongside them.

This city vs. evergreen is like choosing between Jay Gatsby and Tom Buchanan. Gatsby was Daisy’s one true love, he was her porch, her evergreen. But Tom was her amusement park, he was her New York. So, are you going to choose the amusement park over the porch? Or the porch over the amusement park? Does New York even care what you end up choosing? Hell, if you don’t choose New York, there’s one more in line behind you who will.

New York is New York. It will and always will be. But evergreen, contrary to its name, is a state of being that runs out of sparkle and purpose if not treated right. New York will let you ravage it, and throw it away. It’s indifferent and ruthless. But evergreen is soft and fragile, and quietly makes us realize the important things in life. If we tamper with that, then we’ve lost everything, including New York.

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I’m currently listening to one of my favorite Pump Up songs; Midnight City by M83. Let me just note that I understand how basic that makes me sound for telling you that I have a Pump Up song, but seriously, I feel like everyone should have a Pump Up song. Now, Midnight City is one of many Pump Up songs I have. (I’ll stop saying Pump Up) But I love this song because it gets me excited about life. It’s like when R.Kelly’s Ignition Remix comes on at a party and everyone feels this inexplicable and embarrassing need to get up and dance and explicitly shout, “After the party, it’s the hotel lobby!” It gets me energized and whenever I hear it, I feel like I’m on a stage and people are cheering and I’ve just accomplished some major feat. This song was particularly special to me when I auditioned for the role of presenter for my college’s Ad Team. I auditioned, got the part, and I remember listening to this song on repeat when I pictured what it’d be like up there, in front of judges and an audience. It was something I had never done before. My point is, this song has been making quite a comeback lately. Let me explain why.

The last time I posted to this blog was a few months before I left my first internship. That was a little less than two years ago. If you don’t want to scroll down through my previous posts, a word to sum up the emotions, feelings, and explanations that were in those posts would be escape. It was the beginning of my career. I scored a great first internship at a startup data company and I was their social media intern. The internship progressed and they kept renewing my position there and eventually my role got solidified there. But here is the clinger: It was a great first internship. I wanted more. I wanted to learn more, see more, do more, and while I am forever grateful for that opportunity that catapulted me into so many more, I knew I had to leave. I knew I had to escape. And, well, I did.

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Fast forward to almost two years later – I went through a series of internships, part-time jobs, and finally landed a full-time position at CBS Altitude Group. It was probably the craziest two years of my life. I left my first internship and just jumped. Two weeks after I quit, I started my second internship at Seventeen Magazine. I was seriously debating saying something like, “and Seventeen taught me so much!” But I’m not exactly sure what FETCHING ENERGY BARS FROM A GNC IN FREEZING WEATHER WILL TEACH ME. I’m not bitter, right? My childhood dreams of working at the magazine publication that helped me with understanding puberty and college and boys shattered right in front of my eyes. I left on bad terms because I quit the internship a week early, unsatisfied and deeply disappointed with what I was learning, or in this case, what I wasn’t learning. Life works in such mysterious ways. Lesson learned, and on to the next one (HOV style) I went.

This is where things really got interesting. (And by really interesting, I mean please stay) I had an internship lined up for the next semester at CBS Altitude Group as a Strategic Marketing Intern. At 21 years old, or really any age, being offered an opportunity to work at CBS is mindblowing. And not like, “of course they’d hire me. I’m the shit.” mindblowing. More like a, “I’m going to shit myself because I thought only people like that really rich kid in my class with connections to his dad gets this kind of stuff” mindblowing. I’m from Rockland County, dude. Shit like this doesn’t happen every day. I worked at J.Crew over my last winter break of college to save up money for another unpaid internship and I accepted. It was the greatest internship. It was there that I found my groove as an aspiring marketing professional. It was there that I found what I enjoyed doing. And it was there that I understood my worth and my place. I finally saw a career path.

The internship ended about two weeks before I graduated from Pace University. That day was full of divorced parents being awkward with each other and my grandmother being disappointed that my fellow graduates didn’t throw their hats up when it ended because sorority girls decorate them with obnoxious jewels, but it was a beautiful day. It was a beautiful day before reality hit. I didn’t have job lined up and I was broke.

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It was a race to find a job because I knew my parents couldn’t support me for much longer. I was interviewing with Indeed.com for a sales position in Connecticut. I went on four interviews just for me to realize that I did not want to do sales or cold-calling, and I did not want to travel to Connecticut every day. I moved on and went to temp at a creative production agency that specialzed in creating campaigns for beauty and make-up products. I honestly have no idea if I got that explanation right. But, I had worked with them before at my first internship and reached out to see what they were up to. I temped, and left about two weeks later when I realized they needed an assistant rather than a marketing person.

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Now, I know you must be thinking that I’m being ungrateful and picky and that I should take whatever I can get. I know. Trust me, I thought about that. I thought that I should just suck it up and accept whatever was given to me. But I didn’t. Life isn’t meant to be lived that way, in any capacity. It could, but I’m on a path to follow my dreams and as corny as that may sound, holding out for something better was the best decision I ever made. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith.

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After about two months of unsuccessful emailing and resume-sending (not a phrase but I’m going with it), I felt like that leap of faith was turning into a jump to my demise. Until I read this incredible fucking book called “Oprah.” I’m kidding. Though, Oprah is a lady boss. I read this book called, “The Power of Who” by Bob Beaudine, a nationally recognized recruiter. If you are reading this and are a college graduate or just someone who is looking for a job, READ that book. It will change your life. The book enabled me to get in contact with CBS Altitude Group again and ask them if they knew of anyone within CBS who could hire me. Well, they did. I interviewed with CBS Television through my old boss, and had an informational interview with my favorite social agency, Likeable Media, through a contact I made while interning at CBS.

Likeable Media wasn’t hiring at the time, unfortunately. But, I did end up having three successful interviews with CBS Television and when I realized that I might be hired, CBS Altitude Group reached out to me and offered me a full-time position. This was a WTF moment. I was torn. But I accepted the position at CBS Altitude Group and started work there end of July 2014. At the end of January, I will have been there for six months. I could finally breathe. Life is good.

And while life is pretty damn good at the moment, the ambition inside of me is asking, “so what’s next?” I’m not quite sure, but I have some ideas and this is what this blog is all about. I want to take you through my journey of self-discovery, but mostly, career self-discovery. It’s so fucking hard for a college graduate to get a job. It’s a struggle, and then you get the job and there’s a learning curve and everyone is so much smarter and you feel less competent and then there’s this self-pity that sets in because you’re not Mark Zuckerberg but you’re at a job so that’s good enough, right? Let’s figure that out together. I want to share my insights, talk with you, discuss my day-to-day, your dreams, my dreams, what drives us, etc. I’m at a time in my life where I feel like Midnight City by M83 is playing almost every day. Career wise, though. Let’s not get my personal life twisted. We’d be here until 2245. I’m just saying that I’m a kid playing in the big leagues in the greatest city in the world (Parisians, back up) and it’s a pretty fucking cool experience. I just want to vent to you, dammit!

We’ll vent about my new Shark Tank idea of creating an in-office coffee IV. Next time, on Serial.

Kidding. (But not kidding because one of yous would definitely patent that shit)

Thursday.

I know, guys, I know. I can literally feel your excitement through the computer screen.

Or maybe that’s just me freaking out over the fact that the work week is coming to a close and then it’s the weekend which is literally one day because all we truly have is Saturday and Sundays are in preparation for the worst day ever and ugh, great, I just convinced myself that today is basically the end of the weekend and it’s probably Monday.

Mind blown.

Regardless, I’m struggling on this Thursday morning due to me staying out late last night. Seriously, when will we come to terms with the fact that staying out past 12AM on a workday is probably never a good idea? We probably never will because, well, alcohol, but also because of the fact that wanting to enjoy ourselves for a few hours is human nature and sometimes, needed.

I used to work at Starbucks throughout my high school career. And yes, the job is exactly as you probably pictured it; taking absolutely ridiculous orders from you psychotic and desperate coffee/tea/frappufuckingccinno addicts and turning them into gold. Seriously, baristas are wizards and you guys aren’t even appreciative of it. I digress, though. When I worked there, however, I was co-workers with some awesome kids. But life got in the way, and we got tired of wreaking like coffee beans, so we quit and moved on to the next stage of our lives: real-life.

Years passed, and although we were friends over social media, we didn’t keep in contact much. But a few days ago, one of the guys I worked with texted me inviting me to see his band play at a small venue 30 minutes from my house. I knew he was in a band, knew he played some shows, but I never made an effort to go see him and his band members rock out. (Is that what hipsters say?) However, because of this life-is-too-short motto I’ve adopted recently, I figured I’d show some face and see my old friends.

And am I glad I did. Now, before I go into my life lesson piece, can I just give credit where credit is due? To all bands across this world with such a small following, used equipment, and under 300 likes on Facebook, props. Like, PROPS. How do you even continue to do what you do when there is the smallest possibility that you will ever make it big? You know when parents tell their kids at a young age that they are completely capable of being Barack Obama or Neil Armstrong or Britney Spears (pre-shaved head), well yeah, you’re all lying and you know you are and bands are just like, “I don’t care, dude, I love this. I’m going to become the Stones, I will NOT settle for The All-American Rejects.”

As I watched them play up on that stage with such enthusiasm and such confidence and joy, I couldn’t help but get a little jealous. At first, my jealousy was me obsessing over the fact that I quit singing lessons as a kid like three classes in. (I also forgot about the fact that my vocals sound like what I imagine the grumpy cat sounds like) However, it then turned into a jealousy over passion. I grew envious over the fact that these kids, at a young age, had something they believed in, something that made them so happy, that even if they continuously failed, that failure would only inspire more strength and probably, happiness, because their journey towards whatever they were reaching for, continues.

What’s comical is that before I had gone to their concert or small gathering of moms and drunk 21 year olds trying to crowd surf in a room that probably had a fire capacity warning of like 10, I was applying to this awesome internship opportunity that required me to go beyond what my resume or cover letter stated, and asked me to clearly state my passion for their company, my passion for a 20% project (Similar to Google’s 20% project) and my interests. I’m surprised I hadn’t just given up right then and there. Passion? Interests? What is this blasphemy? It took me a day to fill out the application as I went back and forth debating what to say and trying to find out things I’m interested in in a span of 24 hours. I didn’t exactly lie about my interests, but it seemed so forced to say what I wanted to do with my life. I had no idea. I was wrestling around with the idea of writing copy for brands, or something in the editorial field, or trying to inspire change, etc. (How in the hell do you inspire change without being Ghandi? I don’t want to be set on fire) I was a lost puppy. And it was disappointing to see how much I struggled with this.

I spoke about this in a blog post earlier, but what if I never find out? What if nothing strikes me as fascinating? Essentially, what if I never join a band? (I knew I should have never quit percussion in middle school) But here’s the thing. I think I quit too easily or I’ve tried enough hobbies. I experimented with the essentials as a child. My mother forced me to dabble in singing, acting, soccer, ballet, gymnastics, tap, jazz, flute, and percussion. I scored on my own team in soccer once and used to fake blow into the flute and pretend my fingers knew where they were moving. Needless to say, I was never very interested in much as a kid. Some odd years later, here I am, confused as to whether or not I should have tried harder in ballet and actually attempted to sing. (Nope, I’m still tone deaf) My point is, I have to keep trying. When something doesn’t make me spark, I’ll move on. But I shouldn’t get discouraged.

My childhood failures in attempting to pick up a steady hobby have kind of set me back. I’m afraid I just won’t like anything, but I don’t even try to hate it! (The epitome of first world problems) Therefore, I should try. Just like I’m going to try to cook food. I’m investing in a fun, cooking class as opposed to spending it on a hangover that I don’t need or a pair of shoes that I don’t…wait, maybe I do need them. Regardless, I’m going to try new things. That’s the only way to know; to know if I like something, to know if I enjoy something, to know if I love something, and to know if I can be part of the band.

(By the way, I forgot to send this out. It’s currently Monday morning and I’m struggling pretty hard. But, good news, I have two internship options for the fall semester. Slowly but surely working my way up to back-up vocalist. Next, Liza Minnelli impersonator.)

You guys guessed it. Work sucks!

Therefore, to combat the eternal boredom that I feel almost daily at this job, I like to walk.

Lately, though, it’s been so hot you just start sticking to shit that I’ve refrained from leaving my office and found tranquility by going in the office kitchen and doing a secret stress-relieving dance, (will not put up video for you), however, today’s weather decided to throw us a bone so I went for a walk.

I’m not really a person of experimentation. Old habits die hard with me. Except for alcohol. That, my friends, is always a challenge to see how far I can push my limit between the gaps of “I’m just tipsy” and “Wake that bitch up”, aka, my friends are trying to revive me because I’m passed out drunk in a diner at 4 am. (Okay, so that habit is actually pretty stable). But, I usually have a plan before I set out to do anything. Even something as simple as a little stroll outside my office perimeters. However, lately I’ve been on a “no fucks given” spree and just got up from my desk, grabbed my purse and went for a walk with no idea of where I was going in mind.

Instead of walking where the people were, I walked away from them. Kind of like when a native New Yorker sees Times Square and just starts running in the opposite direction. I just walked, and literally walked to wherever my heart desired. There were so many times where I would stop myself in my tracks and be like, “I should turn around and go back to the office”, but I didn’t, and I’d walk and then discover something new. I’d stop again, look back, convince myself to keep going, and then I’d discover something even cooler than before.

Along the way, I had found my future Carrie Bradshaw brownstone, a coffee-shop that was hidden and so unpopulated that it made me want to just start a book and escape there and a wine shop with such an intricate storefront display that I’d be willing to go in there and listen to some hipster explain the process of wine-making to me. I also came across so many dogs that I quietly squealed at and scared the shit out of the owners when it looked like I was about to dognap them, smiling people, quiet and then loud, pieces of conversations, and then I came across something so worthwhile.

I came across myself, that self that had been missing for a bit.

That self that wasn’t scared of risk, always sought change, and just went with the flow.

As I kept walking, I noticed how much stronger my stride and strut was the farther I got away from my office. I was happier, more confident, more relaxed, and just more of who I was. And when I kept coming across new blocks and street names that left me in awe, it’s like some force of nature was trying to tell me that going out of your comfort zone is not a bad thing, but something worth exploring. Literally.

In these recent weeks, I have thought so long and hard about leaving my internship. I leave the workday so unsatisfied, completely aware that I am not reaching my fullest potential here. But I had a plan, you see. Graduate, get the full-time job at a start-up that was about to hit break-even point, save up enough in a 2-3 year span, quit and do something I like. However, I did not foresee myself becoming so unhappy that I literally dread stepping foot into this office everyday. Therefore, it is my time to leave. And this walk, this walk of essentially “Nirvana”, proved that I shouldn’t be afraid to leave what I know. Because, guess what? If you head into the realm of the unknown, even for just a moment, you’ll discover things that were never made visible to you before.

I had been waiting for some time for a sign to let me know that it’d be okay to leave here, to abandon the post-grad plans that I had for so long, and that was it. Disapproval from my parents is something that is expected, but it seriously burdened me knowing that they would not understand my reasoning for wanting to leave. And now I’m just kind of like, this is my life, I DO WHAT I WANT. Kind of proud of that. Yuck, getting teary eyed. Seriously, I am the worst person with emotions. I cry in private so often, it’s pathetic. But if you cry in front of me, or like want to talk about something serious, I will laugh. It’s awful. Therefore, silently tearing by myself and none of you will ever see my break down. Because I’ll giggle and pretend like it never happened. But it did. Shh.

Any who, (Seriously, who the fuck says any who?), I know I posted yesterday already and I usually wait lightyears in between my postings, but I had to get this off my chest because I’m so ridiculously happy right now. As a matter of fact, right after work I’m going back around that spot to see if I can travel even farther. Even a block further beyond my imagination can do wonders.

Slow down you crazy child, you’re so ambitious for a juvenile. But then if you’re smart, tell me why are you still so afraid?

These lyrics, y’all.

Vienna by Billy Joel has never resonated so much with me until I recently revisited my obsession with this incredible artist. I used to just enjoy this song, not really understand the meaning behind the lyrics. I’d move with the melody being like, “Yeah, you go girl, Vienna”, not really grasping the fact that this song is about a youngin’ getting way too ahead of themselves, not realizing that there is no need to rush this life; Vienna will come for you and that “coming” is the rest of your life.

Because of the collapsed market, because of our need to innovate, because of our desire to jump the gun, millenials have learned that being only one step ahead of the game is not enough if you want to make some type of impact in this world. We’ve programmed our bodies and minds to be flexible when it comes to change and work. I’d like to call us robots, but I can’t just yet because we still possess the need to ask mom and dad for a few bucks every now and then. However, there’s the problem. And you could totally disagree with me, though you shouldn’t because I’m pretty fucking smart, (Kidding, I once got kicked out of a classroom my Freshman year) but when will our generation just learn that sometimes it’s okay to take a step back, and notice what’s right there in front of us? Our fading youth.

“You have four years to be irresponsible here. Relax. Work is for people with jobs. You’ll never remember class time, but you’ll remember time you wasted hanging out with your friends. So, stay out late. Go out on a Tuesday with your friends when you have a paper due Wednesday. Spend money you don’t have. Drink ’til sunrise. The work never ends, but college does…” This is possibly one of my favorite quotes said by Tom Petty. “The work never ends, but college does.” This line, short and sweet, really captures the gist of it all. College, an experience that years ago I was so amped for, has turned into a full-time job. With a commute that is emotionally and physically draining, a fully loaded business school schedule with so much group-course work I think I’ve met half the school already, and an almost full-time internship that emails you post-weekday hours, you’d think I have no time to breathe. I don’t. And I’ve still got one more year to finish out my college career without possibly going insane. (Check back with me in a year to see if I haven’t landed a role in the remake of One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest)

Slow down, you’re doing fine. You can’t be everything you want to be before your time.

Remember when college was all about self discovery and having fun? Yeah, me neither. The school I go to has students running in and out of the building doors heading to internships, jobs, networking meetings, interviews, etc. Sometimes, I’m just like, “Can we all just sit in the cafeteria and eat while laughing at people we don’t like?” (Don’t worry, we make fun of mean people). But no, no one has the damn time for that, and that is some useful bonding time, folks!

What’s funny about this entire race to the finish line is that I’m totally running alongside everyone else. I’m not that hipster that refuses to join in on the latest trend, mostly because this isn’t a trend, this is a lifestyle at this point, and besides, I hate hipster clothing. But seriously, I’m essentially complaining about this in this post, but I’m doing it.

I’m not realizing that this is the time for me to just be a kid, before I’m really forced to just be an adult and pay for rent on my own and like, cook full meals and shit. (Yes, you Instagram foodies, spinach and your plastic meat don’t count) I need to realize that I’m pretty okay at this point and that I should slow down. I am not going to get to my goal any faster by adding more shit to my plate that leaves room for nothing else, especially my sanity. I’m young, capable, and willing, therefore, I can do whatever. There IS time. There is ALWAYS time. I will amount to something, whether it’s next year or 20 years from now. I’m going to get there and you know why? Because life doesn’t stop for anyone. Time races, and if I spend so much time worrying about the future, I’ll never enjoy the present. And you know when your parents whine to you about how they wish they would have enjoyed their youth more because now their backs hurt basically? Well, yeah, listen to that shit.

But here’s the silver lining, I’m coming to this realization now and so can you. I’ll go out after work, ignore the emails my boss sends me after 5 pm (probably not a good idea but YOLO), hangout with my friends or family, make plans, keep in contact with friends that I fear losing, dream, laugh, try not to think so much about the future, and just live. Let’s learn to not be paralyzed by the thought of the future, and just live in the present. The future will come eventually, just like death, therefore, there’s no need to worry so much about it. Ask older people and trust them when they say, “it’s coming.”

It’s alright, you can afford to lose a day or two.

Before I began writing this post, which took so long and I apologize for the wait my awesome followers (mom and dad), I looked up what the actual meaning of Vienna was, Billy Joel’s interpretation. In a July 2008 New York Times article, Joel revealed the story behind the melody. He was visiting his father in Vienna and while walking around town, he noticed this elderly woman sweeping the streets. Confused as to why a woman of her age was doing such a laborious job, his father interjected, “She’s got a job, she feels useful, she’s happy, she’s making the street clean, she’s not put out to pasture.” Stunned by his father’s response, he quickly retreated back to reality, realizing that old people still have a place in this world, even at such an age. His inspiration came from the fact that we shouldn’t fret about growing old, because we’ll still have purpose and use and meaning, and we’ll have Vienna.

When will you realize Vienna waits for you?

It’s Wednesday. Usually, I’d complain about this day. I mean, when do working folk not complain, unless it’s 4:55 PM on a Friday? But it’s like a Super Hump Wednesday because it’s a major holiday and we also have Friday off and holy shit, I’m getting so excited to leave already.

Is it wrong to get so excited about work ending? Like, do adult people get just as prepared to leave like I do? Last semester, during my finals week, I snuck out of a classroom to avoid sitting through endless presentations; Literally crawled out of a classroom, on my hands and knees, and threw my book bag out the door to avoid having too much weight on me while I walked like an infant. That’s basically what happens when I leave work at 5 PM and everyone is still there and I feel awkward. Screw your judgmental glares, I live in the boonies and you’re all a subway ride away.

My point from that tedious rant, is that I need to learn how to cook. What? How did we go from shamelessly crawling out of a classroom to learning how to cook? Here’s the explanation.

I recently came across an article on thoughtcatalog, which is the shit and if you haven’t read their pieces, DO IT NOW, listing 10 reasons why 22 is the perfect age. The reasoning was genius. It was basically saying how if you don’t have two pennies to rub together right now and have no idea what the IRS really does, it’s totally fine. At 22, most people will forgive you for not understanding how the real world works.

3. It’s okay to not have it all figured out just yet. Whatever ‘it all’ is. Since you are probably a recent college grad, your family may give you gentle reminders about your future, but it hasn’t quite reached that pushy get-out-of-my-house-and-get-a-real-job phase. Cue the soul-searching.

Therefore, at 21, people should definitely forgive me for essentially crawling on my hands and knees when leaving work at 5 on the dot, right? I just want to get home and cuddle with Netflix. However, that forgiveness will only last for so long and when it runs out, when you get past that point where pre-22 becomes nonexistent, you have to enter adulthood, whether you like it or not.

4. Speaking of family, it is perfectly okay to live with your parents. Free rent and home-cooked meals? Holla. I mean, as long as you’re living under the pretense of ‘I’m working on nabbing my dream job in a couple years and will then find a humble abode of my own’ kind of thing.

I’m still at home with my family. And I’m completely okay with that. I don’t plan on moving out until I’m financially stable and able to rent without giving half of my paycheck away. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be there till I’m like 26, but 25.9 maybe? Kidding. (I love you, mom) But I don’t see the point of moving out right now or learning how to cook or understanding how taxes work. And the problem is that I seriously should. I burn pasta. Like literally forget to just stir it so it doesn’t stick and then minutes later it’s ruined and I’ve created some type of kindergarten macaroni catastrophe.

I keep delaying the inevitable. One day, Seamless will no longer be so inviting and that 2.00 delivery charge will make all the difference between ordering out and cooking up some pasta with that questionable marinara sauce in your cupboard.

However, I’m slowly realizing that although 22 may be the perfect age, it’s also the most stressful age. I never understood the meaning of a quarter-life crisis, until now. I’m trying my hardest to build up credit, so I’ve taken on my own car insurance, lease payments, and credit card. And it’s so much. I can’t even fully comprehend why I’m doing this, I’m just doing it because my mother is a finance freak and has taught me a few things about conserving and preparing for the future, financially. (At 20, you’ll listen to anything and believe it)

I’m only 21 and already freaking out, so one can only imagine how paranoid and stressed I will be at 22.

So, I need to learn how to cook. I feel as if once I conquer that, I can take control of being in my twenties, as ridiculous as that sounds. But cooking is one thing that I have put off for so long because I’ve never felt the need to. I feel like once I finally force myself to cook, I have to grow up, and that’s actually pretty terrifying to someone who has been using anti-wrinkle creams since she was 18. Therefore, I’ll tackle that first.

Till next time, y’all.

Also, can someone tell Taylor Swift that feeling 22 is stressful as all hell and not some indie-pop video with girls prancing around the beach. I mean, I do that, but I’m usually drunk because it distracts from the real issue at hand – worrying about whether that bikini will fit me ten years from now.

Shut up, you all do it.

*Currently trying to crawl out of my office. One step at a time, guys.