“It’s never too late–in fiction or in life–to revise.” -Nancy Thayer
Ok, I get it. I suck. I admit I suck. The first step is admitting the problem right? It’s been, like, four months since my last confession. A lot has happened since then, hence my lack of posts. I’m busy!
I have officially been in the CO for a year now, and aside from the purpose of this post, I couldn’t be happier. I got a couple of pretty good jobs in my area of study right after graduation, and I should probably have been more grateful for that since I know a lot of friends and classmates who weren’t so lucky. Alas, the ever restless nomad that I am left the second big-kid job (the reasons for which will get their own post soon enough) and came to a startling realization: I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE!! (Help?)
I didn’t want to rush into things, so in true Bailey fashion, I spent my entire summer dicking around and enjoying myself instead of, oh, I don’t know, applying for jobs or schools. Among other things, I traveled all over the state of Colorado, road-tripped home to Iowa, jetted off to Chicago for Lollapalooza (uh-friggin-mazing BTW) and took camping and festival trips. I went white-water rafting and entertained visitors. I felt an earthquake. I saw a wild bear—in person. I checked 30 Seconds to Mars, Incubus at Red Rocks, Coldplay, Foo Fighters, Bright Eyes, and a handful of others off my musical bucket list. I conquered the Manitou Incline and stood at Pikes Peak.
And you know what? I wouldn’t trade all the road trips I took, amazing experiences I had, or friends I made for any job in the world (I should add that I DO have a serving job that easily pays the bills—I’m not THAT irresponsible!). But, when summer ended, again, in true Bailey fashion, I maybe panicked a little. Or maybe I freaked the fuck out.
Why didn’t I look for a job? I know everyone jokes about what a hippie I am, but when did I get so irresponsible? Should I go to law school? I’d love it, I’d do well, but what if I don’t like being a lawyer? Should I still join the Peace Corps? Should I try something completely different and get a job in PR or communications? Study social justice? Should I finally just buckle and sell my soul to Wells Fargo for good benefits and clinical depression? I know it sounds like I’m on crack, but try being inside my head for five minutes. You’ll be crying and rocking back and forth in the shower in two.
One of my best friends, who shall remain nameless (you know who you are… JJ), was talking to me about it over the phone, and he said something like “Jesus, Bai, get your shit together already!” I retorted something like “Dude, I love you, but fuck you!” Actually, he’s sorta right. But, as with all arguments, there is another side to be considered. Many—and I mean MANY—of my friends are having the same problem. A couple of us frequently joke about our lives being in shambles, particularly when we’re hungover at 8:00 on a Sunday night and none of us have showered.
I’m 23. We’re all in our early twenties. We have no kids, no mortgage, no credit card debt—I don’t even have a car payment, yet. What better time is there for us to NOT have our shit together? In fact, you know what? Maybe it’s THEIR fault. Maybe they send us to college too early (or, as Matthew Inman/The Oatmeal would say, they start by teaching us the wrong things in high school). For Christ’s sake, I started undergrad thinking I was going to be a rock writer. Like, for Revolver or Rolling Stone. REALLY?!?
I changed my major 346 times. I graduated with 30-odd extra credits. I should have known I still had some thinking to do. And we’re all struggling with that—we’re out of college, some of us found good jobs, some of us didn’t. But we’ve all stopped and looked around and discovered… older, wiser, and a little worse for wear, we still don’t know what to do next. Some of us are working for The Man against our better judgment, some of us are working for very little pay, and at least half of us are considering hitting the books for one more round. In this economy, beggars can’t be choosers, but the nice thing about The Man is that he doesn’t give a shit about you—so it’s okay to use him for financial security until you find something you really want to do.
My point is, I’ll bet most of you reading this are in the same boat. Either you’re treading water with no idea which way to look for shore, or, like me, you thought you landed your dream first job and found it wasn’t what you hoped it would be. My point is, you’re not alone. My point is, there is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone talks about finding themselves during their college years, but as liberating as college can be, there are still a lot of restrictions. If you want to have x major, you have to take x, y, and z classes. At the same time, when everyone’s telling you the sky is the limit, there are too many options to narrow it down, and let’s be honest, you were just as worried about extracurriculars and, ahem, social activities as you were about finding your calling. Not to mention all the small-town bullshit you were dealing with if you went to a school as small as mine.
This is me not worried about it.
Maybe NOW is the time to figure it all out. Maybe you can’t actually find the right answer until you’ve tried enough wrong ones. I may have been treating the past year as the spring break I never had, but I’ve still learned a lot. I’ve learned it’s really disappointing when you think you’ve got it all figured out but you don’t, but it opens your eyes to a lot of opportunities you didn’t know existed. That it doesn’t serve anyone to be a Debbie Downer, even when life throws you shitballz. That women are taught by society to compete against each other, and they need to knock that shit off. That we are not still in college, and our bodies know it. That your friends were right about your ex. That you really do find out who your friends are, and there are plenty more to be made. That life goes on, and in the grand scheme of things, it’s been pretty good to me. That “shit” is my favorite word. I could go on for days, but let’s cut to the chase.
I do so enjoy being young, learning life lessons and throwing caution to the wind, and I refuse to switch to full-on adult mode. But I’ll concede, it may be time to consider growing up, so I’m going to start being a leeetle more responsible. I hereby resolve to:
1.) Actively apply for jobs in a variety of fields of interest. And land one.
2.) Run at least two 5k’s. (And get back in shape so I don’t embarrass myself )
3.) Finish my reading list. (I’d add the AFI’s top 100, but it’s Oscar season…)
4.) Move to Denver!
5.) Study for the LSAT, but research other programs I might be good at.
6.) Write more (and using the blog to update you on these goals will allow you all to hold me accountable by yelling swear words at me via the comments section. Or you could try nice, motivational things. Whatever.)
7.) Be nicer to myself. I.e. forget the past and the people in it; Relax more; etc. : )
8.) Find a husband. Just kidding. How about de-cluttering my life? Yes.
9.) Join more clubs of some sort and branch out my social circle.
10.) Stop taking JJ’s advice.
What about you, fellow non-shit-together-havers? Any advice? Words of wisdom? Goals of your own? Get at me. We’re in this shit together. Pun intended.
And if you need motivation from people who think you should get it together right meow, read this lovely post from Thought Catalog: Ten Reasons Why You Should Get Your Shit Together
“You can grow up anytime you want. You can do it at 20, 25, or 40. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with age. Growing up just means deleting things and people who are bad for you. It means taking care of business, taking care of yourself, and not repeating the same mistakes. Everyone has their own growing up to do. It does not mean you have to drink Earl Grey every night, get a cat and be in bed by 11. Jesus, that would suck.”
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