First World Problems

Sometimes when you're little, you don't realize when you start growing up. When a job with health insurance seems a lot more of a better deal (it always was) than a couple of jobs to make ends meet. When you always figured you'd be "forever alone" and some guy comes around and gives you the time of day.

When you go seven and a half months without household internet and are on the verge of pulling your hair out.

That's what my life's been like. Fortunately, that changed as of yesterday.

See, I've always been an internet baby. And when my boyfriend warned me that there was no high speed services in his childhood home when I packed up my stuff from Florida and moved with him to Ohio, I figured I would be okay. I mean, they're not like total barbarians, they have cable. But the internet was my thing, my social outlet and I am always running out of data with AT&T (as soon as I pay off my and my mom's iPhones, I'm done). Lately, my need for internet revolves around advertisement free movies and YouTube videos.

Truthfully, I did want those past seven and a half months without internet to be a gateway for me to write again. It's true, I haven't been writing lately. Here and there I'll splash a paragraph or so, but sitting down to do the nitty-gritty hasn't been on my agenda. I'd like to not think of myself as a failure but more as a person in need of a creative break (but hey, I did read a lot!)

But, if I like it so much, why would I need a break?

When I graduated college in May of 2015, I had no idea where I wanted to go from there. Financial stability was my main concern and now that I'm stable, healthcare is next. But I'm not here to talk about my job concerns (because its boring and it actually does worry me—but thank God I have my health at the moment).

I always dreamily envisioned myself to be a best selling author, that's what most writers hope for anyway. Though it may be a glimmering possibility, my lovely boyfriend revealed to me what I should really be aspiring for.

That is, write for myself. I used to do it quite naturally (Criminal Offence :X), however, college has sort of killed the positive writing vibes. It certainly has made me a better writer, but its made me want to stay away from it because it has drained my energy. I don't regret going to college for my English degree (I try not too I still have monthly loans to pay back) but I think I overworked myself and killed the fun spirit of writing, making it work.

I want it to be fun again. I want to write stories that will make me happy and, hopefully, some others as well.

So here it goes, round...whatever.

The problems of being a new 20-something

As a recent college graduate, I've entered the pool of young adults in search of financial stability. Some in my graduating class were fortunate enough to land a job in their respective fields right after graduation, but some, like myself, avidly search for employment anywhere that's hiring (that is if these graduates haven't already attained a position during their attendance at college and just stick around).

I live in the burden of student loans and unknown life goals. I'm not exactly sure what I want to do with my life—everything seems kind of bleak right now—but I do know what my dreams are, and making that a reality is a work-in-progress, on the side job. I can't be passive about that, as I tend to be with anything important due to my overall nervousness. And I often find myself running these lines in my head: "Life is what you make of it" and "It's not forever." The problem with it not being forever is that the present seems like forever. Stuck in a drooling cycle of low hope, even when you're trying to be optimistic and peppy about anything that comes to you.

Assertiveness brings you far as I've learned these past couple of months. And sometimes assuming that role is hard for shy, anxious 20-somethings who just want everything to go according to plan (because we do have a plan—just not a very good one).

A friend of mine gave me advice when I witnessed her exchange pleasantries with a cashier at a gas station. As we settled in her car, I looked at her and said with serious awe, "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" she asked.

"Talk to strangers with such ease, like it comes so easy to you, it's no big deal. With me, I'm like so awkward and don't really know what to say most times."

She took a moment to consider what I said, then replied smoothly, "You know what it is: I just don't care."

I think that's what everyone is slowly beginning to realize in this generation, if they haven't already—and it's still a concept to me that I'm trying to open myself up to. Not concerning yourself with what other people think of you is the bases of making it through life. I'm still having trouble with it as I constantly rehearse my answers for job interviews and standard conversation when dealing with customer service. I want to go at it with a care-free attitude but having set responses give me a vague piece of mind, even if it makes me look a bit boring.

This was just a thought in the downtime. Good luck to those in the same boat as me!