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Wednesday, January 22, 2014

100 Days of Happy/ Day #17

Day #17: Marvin the Martian! He was always my favorite character growing up. I've been watching Looney Toons every night on Boomerang for the past few weeks. It always brings a smile to my face. Yes, I still love watching cartoons. Now, it's over and now I'm watching South Park.



Yesterday we had 14 inches of snow, so today there was a 4 hour delay at work (I went to work from 1-4pm). Today I'm just going to review a song before I do some scrapbooking. The song I'm going to share with you dear readers is "Wrong With Me" by Twiztid. This was my song in 2004 and I'm going to put it on my iPod later (I found the mix with Wrong With Me on it). I felt that it was a song that was me back in 2004 because I didn't have many friends and I wanted to belong somewhere. 10 years later, I suppose I still feel the same way... I don't belong here and I'm trying to relocate to a region of the country where I feel like I do belong. Yet, sometimes it's so frustrating and it feels like something is wrong with me since I'm struggling to find a job. At work, I saw the 20 Something Manifesto and read it. I shared this story with Andrew, Dr. Ni and Julie because it spoke to me and it actually motivated me.


"I've Done More Than Survive - I've Started to Thrive" Declaration: I decided if my life was going to be less than the vision I had imagined, then it was going to be spectacular in the living. At twenty-seven, in an attempt to extricate myself from a quarter-life crisis, I left my family, friends, job and home... everything that was important and meant security to me and moved three thousand miles to the other side of the country. Why the drastic change? Why would I, the control freak who never does anything without a plan, move to a city I'd never visited, without a job, and to an apartment I'd never seen? The answer is simple: desperation. When I was younger I'd always had this perfect vision of my life. I'd graduate from college (with as many letters as possible after my name), go to work at the perfect job that let me travel the world and get married to a guy who was well-educated and successful. We'd have three beautiful children, and we would eventually buy a house where we could have all our family together for Christmas and throw fabulous dinner parties with the best guests, food and entertainment. This perfect vision of mine also included me six inches taller... that should have been my first clue that I was expecting too much. Cut to reality. I was living at home with my parents, stalling on going back to school for my master's because I couldn't decide what I wanted to do with my life, and working at a job that drove me crazy and offered no room for advancement. And I hadn't dated in years. I suddenly feared that I was closer to becoming that old weird woman who ends up alone with fourteen cats than I was becoming the perfect woman of my dreams. I had finally grown up enough to understand that almost no one ends up with their perfect fantasy life. However, I didn't want to be the person who settled for a mediocre existence. I decided if my life was going to be less than the vision I had imagined, then it was going to be spectacular in the living. And the only way I was going to achieve that was by throwing myself out of the nest, so to speak, and forcing myself to fly. Staying too close to home would only let me remain too dependent upon the safety net and familiar, maybe false, sense of security that had gotten me into this position in the first place. So I left. I loaded up my car with everything I owned and headed for New York. My first view of my apartment in Brooklyn tested my resolve. In fact, it made me cry. And they weren't tears of joy. At that moment, I began to doubt my life-changing move. I remember thinking, "I haven't even unpacked anything... I can just get back in the car and head in the other direction." Thankfully, pride is a powerful motivator. I couldn't bring myself to throw in the towel before I'd ever even spent the night in my new home - and it was a stretch even calling it that. I found a job almost immediately, which is still amazing to me in a city where I knew absolutely no one. But I used Craigslist, the classified ads, and numerous online job search tools, and sent my resume to as many places as I could. The best response I received was from placement agencies and headhunters. They were able to set up interviews for me and tried to plug me into positions that fit my skills. I had the job but everything else seemed like an uphill battle. Things were still tight financially. The stress of trying to make ends meet was mentally and physically draining. In addition, I was emotionally exhausted. I hadn't made any really close friends since moving to the city. The rest of my emotional support system was thousands of miles away. I was lonely. On more than one occasion all I wanted to do was go home. Even though I feared I had made a mistake, giving up and going home would be the equivalent of failure. I knew that there were people who thought I had made a rash and somewhat ignorant decision by making this move - I didn't want to prove them right. On some level I was afraid that maybe they were right. Maybe I had taken on more than I could handle. But if I went back, I'd be going back to my life exactly as it was before, and nothing would be different - no thank you. Even though things were hard, there were also times when things were good. I might have a moment where I was struggling with loneliness or the fear, but I would suddenly look up and see the Empire State Building and be amazed and thrilled all over again to think about where I was living. I would think about all of the other people who struggled, often in conditions and situations worse than mine, to make it on their own in this city, and I would feel a sense of gratitude to even have the opportunity to have the experiences I was having. The words "what doesn't kill us only makes us stronger" echoed in my mind. It was that certainty that I clung to when I felt completely overwhelmed. I would tell myself over and over again, "You can handle anything that life throws at you. You will survive this." And I did survive. And more than survive. She then goes on to say how much better life is. Someone said to me last night that most recent grads stay home and work first then maybe move. That might be true, but a normal college grad is 21/22. I'm 24.5, almost 25. I also lived at home through college where a lot of people live on campus and have no other option to go home. I'm three years older than most college graduates. I believe I'm mature for my age and I believe that being older, I think I can handle it. Unlike this girl, though, I have no friends here, so I know loneliness won't be a problem for me when I move because I have nothing here to begin with. Anyway, it inspired me.

There might be a possibility that I'm going to have to move before I get a job. I know a lot of people won't agree with me, especially my parents, but I read last night that employers only post 12% of their jobs... the rest are through networking, posts and career fairs. In fact, I didn't find the two jobs I had online; I might not have a choice given some pressure I'm under and honestly, I'm just not happy here. I did find a few jobs that'll pay for relocation and I might make some calls tomorrow. Anyway, here is "Wrong With Me" and I hope you enjoy. :)



2 comments:

  1. Like I said to you in the e-mail, it's a good story. Never give up! :)

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    Replies
    1. Yes and it makes me feel better about my choice about moving and far away without family. It gave me hope that if I do have to go without a job, that it does get better.

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