Rationally I know I should be a lot more freaked out about my future than I am, but then I realize that the stars have more or less aligned in my favor for a brief second to make all this possible.
[Full disclosure about something you probably don't care to know but I somehow feel obligated to share with you just so you don't think I'm the most fiscally irresponsible person ever, because I'm not and I take pride in it: Spending your time watching entire seasons of shows online for free while sitting in your company-paid-for apartment, cooking meals at home due to lack of friends, is a great way to save money. Ch-ching.]
Anyway, I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff looking out over the horizon. Which makes me incredibly effing nervous because it's not so much that I'm afraid of heights, it's more that I worry about being the one in control of my own ability to plummet to my death. Strapped, harnessed on enclosed in something that will keep me from falling? Totally fine. Relying on my own clumsy prowess? Terrifying. So basically this little stint of unemployment is a test to see what I can do on my own, without the safety net of a full-time job keeping me in line. And again, it is scary!
But then I think back to two years ago when I was finally wading to shore after spending several months sinking in depression. The economy sucked, I was stuck at a job that made me question my mental sanity on a regular basis, and I lived in a personal hell made up of stolen condiment accusations and passive-aggressive toast-making.
The time itself was painful; I wondered if it would ever get better. But the experience made me realize things had to change. I wasn't happy so I sat down to brainstorm what I could do to be happy. In a little black Moleskin I jotted down ideas across the spectrum, ranging from realistic to idealistic. There on one end was consultant, on the other end, writer.
After years of denying the possibility that writing was what I was passionate about, I finally accepted it. But I soon realized there was no way to make the leap without falling on my face. I needed experience. I had to be patient.
One day I started this blog to serve as my creative outlet, the diary of my journey, and a way to ruin countless future relationships. (Oh well, most were really just excuses for blog fodder, let's be honest.) I also kept applying for "real jobs," eventually finding one as a consultant. And, finally, The BFF and I moved out of the inner circle of hell.
Little by little life eased back into being tolerable, slowly making the switch to enjoyable and finally to awesome. Although I'd hoped to be able to write more without the shackles of depression weighing me down, anything other than semi-regular blog posts took a place on the back burner. Life got in the way.
So now, as I wrap up this phase in life waiting to see what comes next, I'm pledging to myself (and to you, The Internet) to make a real effort. Recently it dawned on me that most people are successful because of their relentless drive to make something happen. (I'm not totally sure why it took me so long to realize this. Am I a late bloomer?) But now I know I want to be that person.
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| I'm a H-U-S-T-L-E-R baby, I just want you to know. |
Conan O'Brien's wise NBC send-off said it best:
"All I ask of you is one thing: please don't be cynical. I hate cynicism -- it's my least favorite quality and it doesn't lead anywhere. Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen."
So I'm going to work on that. And we'll see what happens.
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