Putting Myself Out There

In the last week of August, I packed up all of my stuff and moved back to Idaho.  It was a long drive for just me and my cat, but I got to see some family and friends on the way.  On September 6, I moved into my studio apartment.  For the first time in my life, I was living by myself, with my closest family members about three hours away.  For the first time in my life, I was truly alone.

Before leaving Pennsylvania, I had been in therapy for about a year.  One of the big issues my therapist and I tackled was socializing, which, even now, is terrifying for me.  But I took all of my therapist's suggestions to heart, I practiced continuing conversations with people I already knew, and I felt good about meeting new people in Idaho.

I have been in Idaho for almost three months, now, and I have gone way out of my comfort zone putting myself out there for everyone to see.  I can't help but laugh at how putting myself out there looks so much different from other people putting themselves out there.

I attend church every Sunday.  I sit alone.  A few people talk to me.  I continue the conversation by asking follow up questions.  I am putting myself out there.

I attend church parties.  I sit alone.  A few people talk to me.  I continue the conversation by asking follow up questions.  I am putting myself out there.

I attend a class aimed towards people my age.  Everyone is much older.  I sit alone.  I am putting myself out there.

I eat lunch with my colleagues at work.  I'm not alone.  I join in on the conversation.  I laugh.  I am putting myself out there.

It doesn't look like much.  I know I could be doing a lot more, but I'm proud of the level of effort I'm currently putting into socializing and meeting new people.  I am way outside of my comfort zone even just thinking about conversing with others.  But I do it anyways.

The last three months have been lonely and difficult, but I continue to put myself out there.  One of these days, I will find deep and meaningful connections, but I have to keep trying.  I have to keep putting myself out there.

 

Underdog

I love Alicia Keys's new song "Underdog"!  In it, she sings about people who are struggling through life but continue to live with a positive outlook.  I especially love the chorus.

"So I sing a song for the hustlers trading at the bus stop

Single mothers waiting on a check to come

Young teachers, student doctors

Sons on the front line knowing they don't get to run

This goes out to the underdog

Keep on keeping at what you love

You'll find that someday soon enough

You will rise up, rise up, yeah"

These are people so overlooked that, I'll admit, I never would have considered them underdogs.  Single mothers (and single fathers) are some of the strongest people there are.  Young teachers and student doctors are beginning amazing and meaningful careers.  And everyone praises the soldiers fighting for their country.

Then I think back on my life.  I've been attending college on and off for almost ten years.  I spent seven years in a low wage job before beginning my college student dream of Mannying.  I have multiple health problems, both physical and mental.  And I can't whistle or snap my fingers.  Doesn't get more underdog then that, right?

So what keeps me going?  Like Alicia said, "Keep on keeping at what you love".  As much as I don't love college, I love my major and look forward to what I can do and become as a school counselor.  The kids I currently work with are a huge blessing in my life and I love seeing them every week.  My parents are honestly the best and most supportive people in the world.  And I have a cat that loves me so much, she's sleeping on my chest as I type this up.  Life is good, and I just have to always remember that.

Adulting: The First 10 Years

Last week, I celebrated my 28th birthday.  On Monday, I went roller skating.  I only fell on my bum three times.  On Tuesday, I saw Captain Marvel.  And on Wednesday, my actual birthday, I worked.  Such is the life of an adult.

I have now had ten years of adulting experience.  I hate to say it, but I still don't know how to be an adult.  In just two years, I'll have spent about a third of life as an adult, I wouldn't be surprised if I am still as clueless as I am today.

Things have gotten easier, though.  Since moving out to Idaho, I feel that I have become a more responsible person.  I've definitely learned the value of money, that's for sure.  I used to think $5 was nothing.  Now I feel greatly humbled and blessed anytime I receive a dollar bill.

My body is starting to go.  My knee is doing some weird things and I can never seem to sleep in a position that my neck likes.  Not to mention the white hairs popping up like dandelions in my sideburns.

Overall, life is good.  I learn new things weekly, usually the hard way.  But that's just life.

Must Be Funny

I grew up a Nintendo kid.  Super Mario, Donkey Kong, The Legend of Zelda, Pokemon.  With the press of a button I was transported into a world of adventure.  I enjoyed hours of mind numbing entertainment.  At least, my mom thought it was mind numbing.  In fact, one of the most important life skills was taught to me through video games.  That skill was money management.
In the Pokemon games, you can earn money (Pokedollars) by winning Pokemon battles.  The Pokedollars can be used to purchase items for your Pokemon, decorations for your clubhouse, or various activities.  I quickly learned that I had to save my Pokedollars so I could purchase enough health items for my Pokemon before battling the Champion.  In one game, I got up to 900,000 Pokedollars.  I panicked anytime my balance went under 900,000.
In real life, I earn money and I watch how much I spend.  If I reach a certain balance, I reduce my spending.  I save up for important things that I need to succeed in my life.  The year 2018 has been a struggle, though.  Between a new car, car repairs, vet bills, and moving out to Idaho, it became very difficult to save money.  I was spending more than I was earning.  I eventually got to the point where I just stopped spending.  I literally only bought food and gas.
I now have next to nothing in my accounts.  But, because of what I learned as a child playing Nintendo, I can now make a dollar go a long way.  My banking account keeps me up at night, but in the morning, I remember that everything always works out in the end for those who work for what they need.  And 2018 is almost over.  Here's to a cheap and thrifty 2019!

Adulting pt. 2: Show Me the Money

I recently traded in my 1997 Ford Taurus (Goldfinger) for a 2004 Hyundai Sonata (The Hakuna Matata Sonata).  I had the radiator in the Taurus flushed three times in three months before trading it in.  I bought the Sonata, which runs beautifully.  It had a faint smell of gasoline which slowly became more and more noticeable.  When the Ice Age of 2018 finally ended, I learned that the air conditioner didn't work.  I eventually learned that my new car needed a new gas tank and a new compressor.
Meanwhile, for reasons beyond my control and beyond my boss's control, I was only working about fifteen hours a week, taking two college classes, and trying to figure out why my cat had been sneezing for the past two years.  Needless to say, a lot of money was being spent.  It's crazy to think that just one year ago, I had more money in the bank than I had ever had before.  But when life gives you lemons, you end up buying more lemons.
It got to the point where my parents (bless their hearts!) were loaning me money.  I am extremely grateful to them.  I am also annoyed.  I know how much my parents struggle.  I now feel like I am adding to their burdens.
I am back to working 30-40 hours with the boys.  Every paycheck I get is split between my parents, the bank (who partially owns my car), and my credit card.  I'm beginning to get caught up.  But then I remember that I'm moving out of state in two months.  Driving cross country.  Paying for gas, for school, groceries.  I wish my parents had warned me that adulthood would be so anxiety inducing!  Oh wait.  They did.
Despite their warnings, I grew up.  I should have listened better and stayed a child.  As if I had a choice.

I Can't Complain

I can't complain.  Like, I literally can't complain.  I don't want to come off as rude.  I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.  I don't want to seem needy.  I spend so much time worrying about what other people think that I forget to worry about myself.  When I want to complain about something, I instead think of how things could be worse.  I can't complain.
I can't complain about having to spend almost all of my savings on various necessities a few months ago.  That makes me look like I'm begging for money.
I can't complain about my health.  People will think I'm looking for sympathy.
I can't complain about people not sharing my posts.  Everyone will think I'm craving attention.
I can't complain about not being able to get date night child care jobs because people won't share the post I've practically begged to be shared.  (Thanks to the one person who did share, though!  You know who you are!) 
As I'm writing this post, I'm worrying about what you, the reader, are thinking about me right now.
But I can't complain.
I have enough money to get by.
My health is fine at this point in time.
I have a good job.
I can't complain.
I shouldn't complain.

Adulting: The Worst Decision I Never Made

After ten years of practicing photography, I feel confident in my ability to take good pictures.  After thirteen years of babysitting, I feel confident in my ability to work well with children.  After only one year of blogging, I feel confident in my ability to express my feelings through written word.  But after nine years of being an adult, I am becoming less and less confident in my ability to survive.
Many questions come to mind:

• Why can't I work my dream job without going to college?

• Why are other adults so weird?

And, most puzzling of all:

• Who was the genius who invented money?

Needless to say, I have been struggling at 'adulting' lately.  I want to get my own place, I want to finish school, I want to jump straight into my dream job.  What's holding me back?  Money!
In order to get an apartment, I would need to get a third job.  To continue my education, I would need to get a fourth job.  And a fifth job.  By then, I won't even have time for school.  So maybe I should just quit my jobs (note to boss:  I'm not quitting any time soon!  Don't panic!) and take out a loan...or seven.  That way, I can finish school, get my dream job, and spend the rest of my life earning money to give back to the bank.  This is the American dream, people!
And don't get me started on the privileges of being an adult.  As a child, I longed for the day when I could finally eat a bowl of ice cream without someone telling me I couldn't.  Now that I can, I find that I shouldn't.  I've got to stay healthy.  My quick metabolism is quickly slowing down.  All that ice cream just sits in my gut.  Most men have a beer belly.  I have a mint chocolate chip belly.
Now, back to school.  I hated high school with a passion.  I couldn't wait to get out of there.  Now, I wish I were back, not in high school, per se, but back to going to school for free.  Back to the teachers handing out free copies of the textbooks.  Back to $2 cardboard pizzas instead of $15 salads.  Ok, scratch that.  Maybe I don't miss the food so much.  But you get my point.  I miss the days when things were handed to me on a cheap green, plastic tray rather than having to pay for my silver platter.
The worst thing about an adult, though, is that I had no choice.  Adulthood was thrust upon me.  High school graduation, which should be one of my proudest memories, is now one of my greatest regrets.  I didn't choose the adult life.  The adult life chose me.  And it chose poorly.