Remember how when you were a kid, and being an adult seemed completely awesome? You thought you'd have the freedom to stay up until 2am ordering pizza for delivery and watching cartoons on the couch in your undies. You might have considered answering the door in your underwears, but you could also have thrown on the amazing fluffy 80282721271 thread count bathrobe of softness in dark green with gold trim that you thought all adults owned. (Yes, I had extremely strange ideals for my life even then).
Anyway, yeah, that didn't really pan out the way I'd been expecting it to. Mostly because I'm way too socially awkward to be comfortable dealing with delivery people at any time of day or night. Also, the pizzerias in this town stop delivering at 11pm, so the whole fantasy went kaput. Also, you need money to order pizza, and money is something that I lack due to a combination of a worthless degree, temp jobs that last 3 weeks at most and the lack of any real ambition to find another job. I basically feel like nirvana is sitting around (again in my underwears) at my computer all day, sometimes heating up food and drinking diet energy drinks all day. And walking a mile a day so as not to feel completely slothlike, which really doesn't work all that well, but at least it's something.
In short, I am extremely immature. I am 28 years old, and my life is basically that of a child, aside from the fact that I live alone and have a college degree...which is useless, but dammit, it's an accomplishment. Anyway, because of this, very small adult tasks make me feel as if I've managed to climb Mt. Everest or something. Of course the small things I end up doing are really tiny and regular people with jobs and enriching lives wouldn't give a second through to, but for me, they're epic achievements.
Take today, for example. I've been needing to go to the public library for the past several days in order to print out some forms for a student loan deferment. This has terrified me to such an extreme that I've been pretty much unable to leave the house at all. I do have social anxiety so I know I shouldn't feel too bad about this, but I do. It feels like failing when it happens constantly.
So, to make myself feel a bit better and to reassure myself that I'm an adult capable of performing adult tasks, I went to the Walgreen's across the street from my house and bought some groceries and cleaning supplies. On the way out, I saw that there was a $5 sale on 12 packs of Cottonelle toilet paper. Now, as recently stated, I'm poor. Like, I'd be destitute if I wasn't living in the upper half of my granny's duplex, so for me $5 is a substantial amount. But, when I thought about it, I realized that toilet paper is a very wise purchase since I'll end up using it anyway, and $5 for a 12 pack is pretty damn cheap, especially for a name brand. So, I bought a pack, along with a book of stamps, and felt like a responsible adult.
I'm now riding on the high of that accomplishment, and will be for the rest of the day. And that makes me somewhat sad, because I mean...if finding toilet paper on sale is a big event in someone's life, that's just depressing. Then again, my adulthood isn't living up to my expectations anyway, hence the desire to move to New York. Not that life is going to be automatically more awesome there, but I'm fairly certain I can purchase brand-name TP cheaply.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Monday, September 27, 2010
randomness
So, I was laid off from the temp job on the Army base. Which is fine, I knew it was a temp job going in, but I'm kinda peeved that it didn't last much longer than 3 weeks because I've found that while I'm definitely not too concerned about money, I do have rather expensive tastes for a poor person.
Well, not really. For most people, anyway. But it's like...I've lived on the street, and I get pissy because I can't afford ingredients to make myself this really awesome Greek pasta thingy in my electric skillet. Haha, I guess that's not exactly the high life, but still. All I actually need to pay for is my rent, which is a steal since my great-granny's my landlord, and my internet/electricity/food. So it's not as if I need a huge sum of money coming in every month, but I'd really like one anyway.
I've made the decision to apply for a master's degree program in New York City at their City College. It's a Working Adults degree in the Study of the Americas, which is basically what I did in undergrad. Very liberal arts based, but it's something. To be completely honest, I feel suffocated by my hometown and I want to live in New York, and the degree feels like the most sensible/financially feasible way to do that. I still intend to go to school in Sweden, but I feel like staying here until next September will kill me.
Obviously it won't. At least, I hope not. But with my luck I'd probably get hit by a bus on the way to work my crappy job (should it ever get more project stuff so it can hire me back). I just feel like, since coming back here, all the "adults" I encounter aren't all that awesome, and it makes me really sad. A lot of the people I worked with for these few short weeks were super depressing. That's nothing against them, since I know they're doing the best they can. But my God, that isn't any kind of life I want. Getting stuck here would kill me, so if I can get into school in an awesome city for 6 months, that'd rule.
I wish I was funny enough to blog for a living, really. Sadly, all I seem to do in my blogs is whine a lot, I'm rarely if ever amusing. Which I feel is a huge injustice to my character. I must seem like a really mopey depressed person, but I'm really not. I get that way sometimes, as everyone does, but for the most part, life amuses the shit out of me and I can always find things to laugh at. I think I need to work on projecting positivity into my life, rather than just laughing to myself so much. What's happiness if you can't share it? Oh hell, there I go attempting to be profound. Such literary egotism from someone whose typing is worse than her 11 year old cousin's.
Anyway, I'm really gonna try to start acting happier. Hopefully it'll bleed over into feeling happier.
I'm also considering a travel blog. I figure I've been to/lived in several places around the world, and I have some awesome stories that I don't want to get lost in all my other whiny woe is me blog posts. Both have their purpose but I feel a travel blog would be nice. Especially when I get to NYC.
I miss my Swedes and Sweden itself terribly and can't wait to go back!
Well, not really. For most people, anyway. But it's like...I've lived on the street, and I get pissy because I can't afford ingredients to make myself this really awesome Greek pasta thingy in my electric skillet. Haha, I guess that's not exactly the high life, but still. All I actually need to pay for is my rent, which is a steal since my great-granny's my landlord, and my internet/electricity/food. So it's not as if I need a huge sum of money coming in every month, but I'd really like one anyway.
I've made the decision to apply for a master's degree program in New York City at their City College. It's a Working Adults degree in the Study of the Americas, which is basically what I did in undergrad. Very liberal arts based, but it's something. To be completely honest, I feel suffocated by my hometown and I want to live in New York, and the degree feels like the most sensible/financially feasible way to do that. I still intend to go to school in Sweden, but I feel like staying here until next September will kill me.
Obviously it won't. At least, I hope not. But with my luck I'd probably get hit by a bus on the way to work my crappy job (should it ever get more project stuff so it can hire me back). I just feel like, since coming back here, all the "adults" I encounter aren't all that awesome, and it makes me really sad. A lot of the people I worked with for these few short weeks were super depressing. That's nothing against them, since I know they're doing the best they can. But my God, that isn't any kind of life I want. Getting stuck here would kill me, so if I can get into school in an awesome city for 6 months, that'd rule.
I wish I was funny enough to blog for a living, really. Sadly, all I seem to do in my blogs is whine a lot, I'm rarely if ever amusing. Which I feel is a huge injustice to my character. I must seem like a really mopey depressed person, but I'm really not. I get that way sometimes, as everyone does, but for the most part, life amuses the shit out of me and I can always find things to laugh at. I think I need to work on projecting positivity into my life, rather than just laughing to myself so much. What's happiness if you can't share it? Oh hell, there I go attempting to be profound. Such literary egotism from someone whose typing is worse than her 11 year old cousin's.
Anyway, I'm really gonna try to start acting happier. Hopefully it'll bleed over into feeling happier.
I'm also considering a travel blog. I figure I've been to/lived in several places around the world, and I have some awesome stories that I don't want to get lost in all my other whiny woe is me blog posts. Both have their purpose but I feel a travel blog would be nice. Especially when I get to NYC.
I miss my Swedes and Sweden itself terribly and can't wait to go back!
Monday, September 6, 2010
Dear Ma
I didn't write on your birthday, nor the day after, and I didn't make it out to see you until the 3rd this year. I apologize for that, but there was some social anxiety stuffs going on with me at the doctor's on Thursday. Nothing big, but I take after you in that I've always hated doctors' offices or any real medical facility. Big shock, I know! :P
Anyway, I know I babbled at you for a couple of hours on Friday, but I forgot to tell you that I love you. Kinda weird since I constantly tell people that, but for some reason I forgot, and I'm sorry. I hope you know it anyway.
Every day I was in Sweden, I wanted to call you and tell you about it. Same as I did in Scotland and when I visited London and Blackpool before that. I wanted to call you from the airport in New York to tell you I could see taxis outside. I...don't even really know what to say. I just want you to know that sometimes I miss you so much it hurts to breathe.
I'm okay, it's just really easy not to think about it most of the time. Then September rolls around and all I can see is that horribly ugly green carpet and all of it just comes flooding back.
I love you, Mom. I always have and I always will, and I'm sorry I couldn't take better care of you when you were here. I wish you still were. I miss my best friend.
You were incredible and I'm so lucky to have known you in the limited time and capacity that I did. I hope you don't despise me completely. I'm not great, but I try every day to be a better person so you can be proud of me.
Eskimo!
H
Anyway, I know I babbled at you for a couple of hours on Friday, but I forgot to tell you that I love you. Kinda weird since I constantly tell people that, but for some reason I forgot, and I'm sorry. I hope you know it anyway.
Every day I was in Sweden, I wanted to call you and tell you about it. Same as I did in Scotland and when I visited London and Blackpool before that. I wanted to call you from the airport in New York to tell you I could see taxis outside. I...don't even really know what to say. I just want you to know that sometimes I miss you so much it hurts to breathe.
I'm okay, it's just really easy not to think about it most of the time. Then September rolls around and all I can see is that horribly ugly green carpet and all of it just comes flooding back.
I love you, Mom. I always have and I always will, and I'm sorry I couldn't take better care of you when you were here. I wish you still were. I miss my best friend.
You were incredible and I'm so lucky to have known you in the limited time and capacity that I did. I hope you don't despise me completely. I'm not great, but I try every day to be a better person so you can be proud of me.
Eskimo!
H
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