I’m pretty sure I’m hitting an epic climax of what is most likely a quarter life crisis. I’m stuck in a bundle of catch 22’s. I can’t get out of my rut until I stay in my rut long enough to make some money and headway. I lack motivation, patience and definition. It’s sorely tempting to sit and write about all of the reason’s I’m not happy, but that’s not what I’m going to do.
I’m going to dig deep and find the things that make me happy and the things I’ve achieved, especially since being home.
I’m saving money like a boss. I’m working 20 hours a week and saving every penny that I can. I’ve limited my lunch spending to $5 a week, drink tap water, putting down impulse purchases and only buying things that I’ll use often. I’m letting my hair grow out instead of getting costly haircuts, reading the books I never got around to and playing games that I already own. Recycle Reuse Bitches.
I’m purging my things, slowly but surely. I’m accumulating a pile of clothes, games and books to sell. Instead of having so many things lying around gathering dust, they’re lining my pockets with some much needed cash.
I’m getting creative again. I’m painting and making things out of clay. I created two new cosplays for the local convention and they turned out decently snazzy. I even opened an Etsy store. The selection is small right now, but I’m working on that. Even if I can sell one thing, that’s an extra couple dollars to help my escape from the dreaded catch 22.
I painted my room to look like Daunt Bookstores in London, then covered it will stuff from my trip to Europe. It’s pretty snazzy in here.
I met Jewel Staite briefly and have an autograph. As a first brush with fame, it’s not a bad one.
I’m reading books again. One of my favourite things about my teen self was my ability to burn through a dictionary sized book in a few days. Now if I could get back into volunteering… but don’t get me started on the quality of local organizations. I’ll wait until I leave, thank you very much.
I enjoy my job. Yeah, I get 20 hours most weeks and I spend those hours preparing fruit for the hungry masses, but I’m happy when I’m there. I’m learning how to use a knife properly, despite my paranoia of cutting my own fingers off. They give proper breaks, treat their staff to free Saturday breakfasts and the time flies by. It’s nice, especially compared to the fact that I turned in a five page complaint letter to the last place.
I recognize some Dutch words. How cool is that? I can even put together a few words in order to vaguely have someone understand what the fuck I’m saying.
I’m sure there’s more, but I feel like this will do. During a time in my life that makes it increasingly hard to look on the bright side, I need to start counting my blessings.