Somewhere here recently, I think I lost the plot.
It's not the first time it's happened. The story that they told my generation was, "After high school, go to college. Your dream job will be waiting for you after. Just keep your hands inside the cart and your harness buckled until the ride comes to a complete stop."
Don't look at me like that. I know how naive it was. Five years after graduating I'm finally grasping how much work everything takes, and how much of an entitled privileged white girl I was for thinking it would be handed to me. If I had the opportunity to go back to 2008 or 2009 to meet myself for a day to pass along some wisdom, I would squander 23 hours and 55 minutes just slapping that b*tch nonstop. The last five minutes would be spent either dishing out some tough love, or more of the slapping. It depends how much I would end up pissing myself off.
In the end, I've come to terms with all that. I mostly manage not to mope about wasted time chasing things that I couldn't have. Really. I tend to blog when I'm feeling down and need to express some feelings that are a bit too big for my voice.
Just recently, that lost feeling is because we're moving soon. Despite that it's not very far, it's got me edgy. Maybe because for a few of the times I've moved, I did it feeling like my world had caved in and my only option was to dig out and leave everything behind. Similar scenarios evoke the same feelings, even if it couldn't be further from the truth. Some people take well to moves; I usually have a bit of anxiety about them. I'll mope around in the new place for a few days, wishing for the old place if for no other reason than the familiarity.
I know this will pass. I will make the new place home too, find new places to explore and new things to do. When that lost feeling gets to be a bit much, I console myself with the thought that I never could've imagined being here, yet it's also exactly what I need.
