I shook myself awake and forced myself to walk to work this morning. I shook my fatigue from standing and walking all day/night on Sunday at Treasure Island, and I forced my feet to find their rhythm once more. The morning was foggy and a bit chilly. I felt new again!
I stopped by a coffee shop because I reckoned this walk would be best accompanied by a warm caffeniated beverage. I needed a break from drinking all the tea that I have been consuming since I was sick about three weeks ago. I’ve hoarded a variety: Twinnings peppermint (gross), Tazo zen (winner!), Sweet and Spice (good for a dessert substitute), Tazo ginger (amazing for battling post nasal drip).
I thought about how excited I would be for yoga tonight and how great it will be to just hop on BART afterwards instead of worrying about how I can get to point B at 7pm. I thought about the cauliflower soup that I will make for dinner, and the spinach and chicken stir fry I will cook for lunch tomorrow. I thought about how I finally feel ready to add volunteering commitments to my schedule. And then -
It dawned on me: my ruminations dripped of privilege. Some people don’t have stable M-F jobs, and for some, they need to commute for hours just to get to the ones they have. I thought about how the BART strike affected folks who rely on public transportation to get to those jobs and how they won’t get paid time off despite the extenuating circumstances. I thought about how expensive yoga subscriptions are, even with Groupon promos. I don’t buy coffee everyday, but $2 per morning, 5 times a week, 4 weeks a month adds up. I thought about how some people need two or three jobs just to keep their heads afloat.
I turn 25 in a month. This past month I’ve had a litany of complaints, grudges against my circumstances. They’ve included:
- Why can’t I have a cool job in San Francisco with people my age?
- Where are my savings?! Why don’t I have a credit card yet?!
- Sorry y’all, I can’t go to Hawaii. Europe is a no-go, as visas will cost way too much. And besides, I don’t have enough vacation leave.
- Why am I not getting any more gigs? Why am I not putting myself out there?!
- I want this electric guitar (it’s on sale!) but I should put this money towards paying loans and my savings account and let’s face it, I’ll never be the next Feist anyway!
- By the time I get to grad school, I am going to be an ajumma!
- I asked what they did to celebrate 25, and I know she went to Peru, he went to Ireland, he threw a grand party at his nice apartment in the Mission, she went to NYC for a week, but I can’t afford any of that.
- Seriously. It is Friday night and I hit up five people and none of them have replied. Have I been exiled?
But none of that should matter because that’s all petty BULLSHIT. Yes, I am turning a quarter of a century old. No, I won’t be a dentist (as I had predicted in high school). No, I won’t be engaged to a Scottish barrister (as listed in said prediction). But I have a lot going on for myself, and I will have a lot more to look for ahead of me. I will take the necessary steps and find new ways to contribute. I’m doing the best I can.
And for now, this is enough. It’s difficult to press on when you feel defeated, so I am going to think of my loved ones who have sacrificed for and loved me enough to get me to this point. I am going to feel your warmth and positivity and keep wanting to do more.
I don’t know how to end these entries (or if anyone reads Tumblr anymore), but this was catharsis.