When I look back at my life, one of the things that sticks out the most are the dad-jokes and dad-comments that have become so ingrained in my noggin. I know the Joe Walsh song “Life’s Been Good” because my dad would regularly tell me that his Maserati does 185 and that he lost his license; now he can’t drive. I know that you can give it to Mikey, because he’ll eat anything.
Though there are some “sayings” whose origin I have yet to figure out. For example, he still calls me his “darling daughter Debbie who drinks Dunkin Donuts daily.” At least half of this is inspired by The B Book which he used to read to me all the time…but I’m pretty sure that is its only reference.
“Are you rundown? Are you listless? Are you lacking in vitality and pep? You need a good swift kick in the butt.”
The origin for this saying is completely lost on me, but it rings in my head all the time because (1) he used to say it all the time and (b)* yeah, I really am…
Trigger warning: you’re about to hear a lot of whiny white girl problems. That said, just because my issues aren’t as big as yours or someone else’s, they are no less issues. That little note comes courtesy of Maurna via email this morning.
I’m feeling stuck.
I don’t feel like I’m going anywhere.
I’m just stagnant.
You know how in Candyland, there’s that molasses guy? And it looks kind of like pudding got dropped on your game board? I feel like a stick just held in place by said molasses/pudding.
That’s a really weird description, I know. That said, my high school creative writing teacher, Ms. Norman, would fucking love my use of non-cliches and describing words.
Four and a half years ago I up and moved to Florida. My first big adventure. Since then I’ve bounced around from job to job more than I ever expected. I’ve thrown myself into a massive group of friends and then backed out until I had the 20-25 I really wanted in my life.
Things have changed quite a bit since.
This last year has been really stable. I have been working at a stable job (one I don’t dislike at all, FINALLY.) I can afford my life and to pay off all my debt. I have lived in the same complex for almost two years now. I have a schedule during the week that I like that works for me. I leave myself enough time to be spontaneous or spontaneously spend 6 hours on the couch.
And it’s making me bat-shit crazy.
I need a plan. I need things to progress. I need to be working toward something. Something big. Something… just SOMETHING.
I’ve given myself a few big goals. Big life plan goals. They do, however, come with their own negatives: (1) they’ll take sticking to the plan for 4ish years, and (2) man plans and gd laughs, right? There’s the very likely chance that I’ll start heading toward this goal with blinders on and that’ll be a bad thing. What if I miss something huge? What if I set myself up to be ill prepared for life to occur outside of my master plans?
To get all mental-health about it, this obsessive planning is what lead to the only big breakdown I’ve had in my life. I’d like to avoid that kind of thing happening again. Be zen, woman!
So what’s a girl to do?
How do I un-stick myself?
You know, without obsessive planning.
Step one: small adventures.
This weekend I will be travelling a few hours north to spend the weekend with Katy (former roommate; best friend) and Maurna (blog friend for lyfe, with a ‘y’ so you know it’s real.) I’m hoping getting out of town and having enough fun to satisfy at least 6 sad people will knock me out of my molasses-pudding-rut.
Step two: exercise.
As a former Psychology student (and a student of life**) I’m keenly aware of how much exercise will elevate my mood. Achieving physical goals makes me proud of myself in addition to the endorphins flowing through my system. It also doesn’t suck that I get so involved in how much I hate running/sweating-my-face-off that my brain turns off for a while. You have no idea how wonderful it is for me to have my brain shut the hell up.
Step three: cry.
There’s no explanation here… I expect I’ll have a crying day sometime soon. I’ll be watching House Hunters or something and just lose my shit. If it comes to that at least I know from experience that I’ll be 100% fine after that.
Poor little white girl with your white girl problems.
Trust me. I get it. It’s not a “problem” for things to be stable. Normal. Healthy.
It is a problem when that makes you unhappy.
I think I need a good swift kick in the butt…
*Yes, I did go from “(1)” to “(b)” and that was entirely purposeful because I’m a weird kid.
**This may be the douchiest thing I have EVER said/thought. Please don’t hate me because of it. Thanks!