I always thought wanting it all and having it all were simply by-products of hard work and determination. What scares me is, now after all these years of life, I’m really wondering if that entire concept actually exists. Or if it is supposed to be a concept we use as a tool to constantly strive for something. Something more…or something else.
For pretty much the entirety of my adult life, I have found myself seeking and searching for something I don’t have and yet still want. I think Carrie Bradshaw once remarked about how New Yorkers are always looking for a job or an apartment….or a man. And if she didn’t say that, then perhaps it was me – because it has truly been the story of my life. One out of three. Two out of three. Two and a half…..no wait, I hate that fucking job, we’re back to two. What do you mean you think I’m great but you don’t want to be in a relationship asshole? Whoops…..back to one! Is it me who can’t seem to have it all or does everyone go through this? Or do most normal people not torture themselves with this and just have lower expectations? Am I tortured by my own hopes and dreams? Quite possibly yes.
So I’m in the back seat of a cab, making the long trip home after an exhausting day at work, looking out the window, at all the sights and lights of the city – feeling like I should feel happy and grateful and yet I find myself feeling worried, anxious, stressed, tired and wondering if I can have my cake and eat it too. Can I and will I ever have the career, the man, the relationship, the security, stability and the “things” be it material or emotional, that I’ve always longed for? I yearn for balance of work and personal life but I seem to merely swing like a pendulum back from one extreme to the other.
Work= stress=money=no life/no time.
No work=free time=stress=no money=feelings of inadequacy.
Fuck me! I swear the people I watch on tv seem to have it all, why can’t I?!
Some days I enjoy the hopeful prospect of meeting new people in the search for the man…well the man I’ve been searching for. Other days I’m just so spent I wish I could simply come home to someone to cook me dinner and rub my feet. Instead I have to figure out how I’m going to look fresh and act enthused about a first date I don’t want to be on with someone who doesn’t know a thing about me. I work all day and then have to put on my Meryl Streep to appear all breezy, fun and just so full of enthusiasm with someone who’s life story I’ll be subjected to over the course of a glass of wine and nachos.
I’m not sure if I’m feeling down per se, or simply reflective. Maybe I’m just too complex to be happy. Maybe I need better meds. Maybe I need to start drinking. Maybe I need to start studying eastern philosophy. I worry too much, I think too much, I care too much and I put too much pressure on myself. These qualities are reflected in every pore of my being at work and in my personal life. I am truly my own worst enemy.
I know I’m lucky in many ways, but that doesn’t ease the stress. Does writing help? Sure. And I don’t have time for real therapy anyhow. Will tomorrow be a better day? Who knows. All I know is I’ll feel better about it all for about 10 minutes when I get home and open up the box of new boots I ordered online.