What a year 2013 was…. New York, St. Louis, Seattle, Chicago and everything inbetween that is too difficult for me to face. A year of failures, so perhaps this year will be a year of learning from my mistakes?
“You have the ability to achieve anything you want.” Why am I so sad? Back in April, I moved to St. Louis from New York City to help my friend’s startup, and now there’s no place for me. I go from being an “executive” to having my position outsourced. I should be happy because I knew this day was coming and a huge weight has been lifted off of me. Once I had set everything up with him, I knew what I wanted to do with my career wasn’t going to be with that company. I am now “head of sales/customer relations,” but not really…
“Finish graduate school and the world is your oyster,” says the example of this idiom on english-for-students. This is a clear sign right? The one link I decided to click on for the definition is telling me to go back to school. James has been telling me to go back to school. My dad has been wanting me to nearly every time I come home to Dallas.
It’s time I come home….? Or do I continue searching for myself because I’m still “young”? *deep breath* I don’t know why I’m so sad. I just am. Maybe it’s all the raining in Seattle…
*Deep breath* For the past few months, I’ve been living in Saint Louis, getting some new lady https://hookupdate.net/escort-index/rancho-cucamonga curves, and dealing with start up woes. Finally got internet in my apartment, got rid of my #aerobed, and now my mom and sister are coming to visit, so I’ll be sleeping on the floor with all the baby spiders I’ve encountered in my new humble abode.
I find myself running, always wanting to get away from something… not entirely sure what it is, but it’s a feeling of not wanting to be trapped or tied down or worse, not having enough time to do everything I want to do. Sometimes I wonder if I keep running and where I should be is home in Texas. Am I running farther from the solution or is “searching” a part of my solution? I want to move to the west coast because I’ve never lived there. And when I’m satisfied with myself on the west coast, I’d like to live overseas for a little bit before coming home and settling down. I’ve been fortunate to be able to pick up my things and go, or perhaps I’ve been spoiled?
Let’s pretend I wrote the following posts: “Benevolent Dictator,” “I must be doing something right. Thank you, Ms. ,” but in reality, I did not. Sad mother f-ing face. Speaking of which, Happy Early Mother’s Day!
I keep checking my “trash” inbox, hoping to see your email, but I find myself drunker by the minute… with absolutely nothing but messages from solicitors – Thanks.
To update everyone, I left New York, went back home to Texas, and James ignored all my calls and emails for a week, and when I finally get a hold of him, he says, “I’ve been depressed,” for the third or fourth time. I just turned 26. Obama doesn’t care about me anymore, and I work for a start up in Saint Louis now.
Let me tell you what happens at this magical age. Quarter life crisis has finally sunken in, and I’m over it regardless of whether or not I am employed. Hello, Blue Cross Blue Shield, by myself. J/k. The beauty of working for a start up in its early stages is that I am in control of my own career growth and development. I am able to make whatever I want to be happen. Downside, it’s a lot of work…. Anyways, I’m at a funny transition. You’re either with me or you’re not. It’s black or it’s white. And this is what James said to me while I was at “home” in Texas (where my family is, when I left New York, right before my move to Saint Louie), “We’ve had this discussion about a year ago when you came to New York. We’re not compatible and we’re not in the same city.” Silly me. And here, I thought we were actually something… with all his lies of our future and our children talk. Give me a moment, I need a breather. Ok, at this age, I do begin to think about my future and where I’d like to be, and who I’d like to be and who I’d like to be with. Oh, big decisions, big pants…. you, are way over my head.