On April 10 I lost my job.

On April 11 someone hit the back of my car while it was parked.

On April 24 I began an internship at Samantha Slaven Publicity in West Hollywood. Unpaid.

By May 1 I need to move out of my apartment. And move in with my mom.

I went from successful full-time employee with my very own grown up apartment to unpaid homeless girl. I mean not quite ~homeless~ because my mom is taking me in but… without a home to call my own.

It’s almost like April Fool’s decided to take over the entire month of April and take away everything that mattered to me.

My mom isn’t giving me a room – oh no, that would be asking for too much. She’s giving me one of the two rooms my brother uses. With his furniture IN IT. Meaning I won’t feel as though I have my own space. I won’t be able to decorate to make it feel like it’s my own space. I’m sort of devastated. Being able to use MY belongings in HER house would ***ease*** the transition of losing my PERFECT apartment in Long Beach. There’s nothing easy about the month of April.

I guess we can lay to rest all my other previously frivolous worries in life.

And all that rush hides just how unhappy I am. No amount of excitement seems to make me feel better. I do too much, I feel exhausted. I do too little, I feel bored. There is no happy middle-ground because at the end of the day what makes me happy is really really amazing conversation. There’s a severe lack of that in my life. I feel like  my brain is rotting away.

So I started writing a “short story” except I got bored with it. Now I’m reading some philosophical articles on JSTOR c/o my university. Despite doing these things what’s missing is someone to share these passions with at the end of the day. I can’t feel excitement if there’s no one to outwardly express and share my excitement with, if that makes sense. For example… the new F/W 2012 Isabel Marant collection – I wanted to share some of the runway photos on facebook only to realize that most likely no one I know/friend/follow on fbook would understand what “Isabel Marant” even is… And then if I want to talk about Kantian philosophy, well… that would be even harder.

Lol I don’t mean to liken my life to 90210. But I’m going to refer to it anyway. Each character has their own set of passions, strengths, their own little adventures, but at the end of the day they always share it with one another yadda yadda. What’s funny is that right now most of them are venturing out and finding their passions and they don’t have any boyfriends (which is new though truthfully each characters’ relationship lasts like what, 2 eps?). So it’s nice to see characters on my favorite show kind of trying to find something amazing to do with life despite being in or out of college.

There’s always this problem of what is my passion and why am I not pursuing it? So annoying. :\

I like:

Art, Fashion, Makeup Artistry, Video Games, Literature, Film, Music, Technology, Interior Design, etccccc. The list is just too expansive. And initially I loved that I could relate to most people in one form or another because my interests are so varied. Now I just want one major passion so that I can go after it to make myself happy. If I knew I loved photography the most then I would go out and take a photography class and start taking photos. And though I do love photography it isn’t exactly my top priority though it would be pretty cool to take a class anyway. That’s exactly what I mean. I can just kind of shrug and be very content doing all these artsy things but at the end of the day I don’t want to pursue any of them permanently.

I need a fucking hobby. Something to FOCUS on. A passion that drives me. Something I know I am good at and can excel in, you know? Life cannot possibly be this boring. I know it isn’t. But too many things interest me that I never quite know how to keep entertained. I end up stationary, unmoving.

There’s always this feeling that life is moving around me, not that I am moving with life. I’m aging – fuck, I’m 23 already. I have accomplished nothing, feel nothing, mean nothing.

Can one person feel this complexly miserable over such a simple facet of life?

Where are all the people that like what I like? I don’t know a single fashionista in real life. It’s the most depressing thing. I want to talk about new collections, what staple items to add to a classic wardrobe, which shoes are on trend, etc. UGHHHHHH…

Here’s a contradiction: I want to have things in common with my friends except my passions and my situation are sort of uncommon. I don’t think many recent college graduates (that I know) are out and about looking for their 2nd pair of Prada heels while at the same time listening to relatively unknown bands blasting out of their BMW and living in their own apartment.

Don’t get me wrong: I am so so so blessed. But at the same time how would I find someone my age that is in a similar position as me?

At this point my extent of commonality with my friends extends to a few TV shows here and there (and even then it’s only because I watch so many of them to begin with) and smoking. Oh and we’re all college-educated. It isn’t much to go on and I love my friends. I just want someone who understand my likes and maybe likes those things, too.

This is a stupid, poorly written rant. But I’m not apologizing. I need to rant. I’m still unhappy in most every facet of my life right now. :\

• Get fit, get fit, get fit!
  I hate reminiscing about the days when I could do push-ups without stopping for what seemed like days. I just love having upper body strength. And I remember I could also do crunches for days – I would do a bit over 600 every night. I know in my heart of hearts I love upper body strength and I miss being fit. Secretly I’m meant to be fit. Lol. Plus I’m so into fashion and all those high-end items would look much better on a more fit body.
• Go to yoga.
  I love yoga. My body always shakes when I do this. Yoga strengthens parts of my body I never focus on. Like holding the entire weight of my body on my toes? Yeah, my legs were shaking at the intensity of that… but it seemed so… amazing. I’m craving yoga right now. I think part of me likes yoga because of how stationary and strength-focused it is. Running hurts, like a bitch. I have 0 lower body strength, for shizzle. So anyway yoga is just the bomb dizzle.
• Buy and wear dresses.
  I love dresses! They’re flattering, comfortable, and so easy to throw on – no styling required. So why do I only own 2 everyday day dresses? It’s a mystery! Time to start finding some dresses. For work, for daytime – must serve both functions. This will also allow for prints in my life. I do not wear prints – solid colors only – except in dresses. For dresses I make the exception to make statements.
• Read!
  Slowly I’m getting through Games of Thrones. But I only read during my lunch break. Somehow I get the feeling that reading for 30 mins a day is not going to quite cut it. I won’t finish very quickly that way, but I do get through several pages to feel satisfied.
• Do the natural/organic/botanic thing.
  Yeah, I don’t know. Lately I’ve just been so into the vegan hair-products, all-natural yadda yadda. For some reason using essential oils and going back to basics feels much more minimal and satisfying to me. Lol, at one point I was just like, “who the heck am I these days?” with the whole natural dealy.
• Learn to cook.
  I’ve been cooking a lot lately. Basic stuff though – nothing crazy. But it also feels satisfying knowing “hey, I made this!” or rather… “hey, I threw all these ingredients together and made it into a basic meal!” but it’ll do. There is something so chic about creating something simple that tastes so delicious and enjoyable. I’m trying to make my meals an experience. Usually this is a lone experience but with a friend staying at my place temporarily, dinner is actually a PART of my day, an event whereas before it was this rushed endeavor to fill my body with calories.

OK, that’s all for now.

We need no proper ending, that would mean this meant something.

Anthony Green on Saturday was mind-blowingly amazing. No words can really describe the feeling to encapsulate the experience at The Fox in Pomona. I’ve seen Anthony Green perform several times over these past few years – his solo stuff and Circa Survive. Any venue he’s performed at nearby I’ve gone and I also had the pleasure of meeting him at UCSB when we brought him to our school (uhm yeah I died). Anyway, this Saturday his energy was at an all time high. I mean he was really into it. He poured his heart into the performance. And I could feel it!

I could scarcely sing along because the words were getting caught in my throat, and at one point I felt my body kind of shake at the emotion the songs were causing in me. I don’t even remember on what song that first happened, I was just caught up in Anthony Green world. My heart was just feeling so FULL and I could literally feel this bursting emotion like when I feel love.

And yes I do love me some Anthony Green music. Even if I can’t relate to the song, they’re so meaningful and beautiful and personal. And suddenly a song will take on new meaning and with each successive listen it means something new. I hear new nuances all the time.

I want to relive that concert over and over. Get that feeling back. I miss that feeling of love. It’s so hard to feel that way, for me anyway. So today, on this day of love, I am a mixture of amazingly happy and disastrously sad. But life goes on and the best we can do to make the sadness go away is to focus on all the Beautiful Things.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

For too many people, being happy at home is pretty much an abstract idea, something they can’t know or imagine, until it appears on some taste maker’s must-have list, or in a magazine, or reposted on Tumblr. A home sweet home is not curated or produced by acquiring a perfect arrangement of chairs, lamps and friends. A real living space is made from living, not decorating. A bored materialist can’t understand that a house has to become a home. It happens, not through perfection but by participation.

Andy & Elsa Beach
Apartamento issue #07

I wonder when the day will come when I actually start living.

Everything I wish for feels impossibly impossible. Or I’m just not courageous enough to do anything and instead I’m just paralyzed, unmoving.

Things I wish for:

• To move to Europe
• Get a new job – one I feel passionate about
• Quit my job and travel
• Go back to school
• Create art

Alone these things do not seem so hard. But, they are, to me. I feel like I need some form of reassurance that should I proceed things will turn out OK. I only have adults in my life that would say just how unreasonable my wishes are or take me lightly and tell me to just do something about it already. That makes me really sad to be honest. I mean, I never had any push from anyone to go to college and I finished that. But now that I’m out of college I just feel like the whole world has killed my dreams. And by that I don’t mean to say the world has actively gone out of its way to demolish my aspirations, but rather that the whole world seems a whole lot more… oppressive than I thought.

Why can’t I reach a content state of living? The point where I’m making sufficient amounts of money to buy not just the things I need, but all the things I want, too. To not have to worry about certain things because I’m living securely. Etc. etc.  etc.

I mainly feel so isolated. Like I just don’t belong anywhere. So I stay unmoving within the confines of my four walls where I know I am unhappy but relatively OK.

I just don’t know if it’s worth it going back to school. As much as I loved learning I just don’t want to feel that pressure anymore of deadlines, staying up late, writing because something is due.

But yes, the “real” thing bothering me is always the same. Always. There’s nothing I can do. Just wait. Wait and forget.

Tu llegaste justo cuando menos te esperaba
Y te fuiste sin decirme ni siquiera adios
Me di cuenta que sin ti no podria ser yo nadie
Si me faltas tu mi amor para que vivir

Que te pasa corazon
Que cosas tiene el amor
Yo no quise enamorarme
Sorpresivamente asi
Ahora debes perdonarme
Por mi amor que eres tu

Bendigo la hora en que te conoci
Maldigo el momento en que te vi partir

I’m so tired of wasting time consuming memories by experiencing the happiness of focusing on memories instead of focusing on the happiness of experiencing. (Yes… I watched Daniel Kahneman: The riddle of experience vs. memory on TED.com)

I miss philosophy lectures. I miss my favorite professors. I miss thinking about obscure non-factual subject material. I miss you most of all.

Ugh.

Haven’t seen most of my friends in about 3 weeks. And strangely I don’t mind. I’ve been really quite focused on work. Yeah, that place that brings me misery during the day, but gives my life some kind of … meaning or something. How pathetic. But I guess when you get calls waking you up at 3am and text messages at 9pm that are all work-related … you don’t really have a choice but to make work the most meaningful thing in your life. I feel so resigned that I don’t even mind to a certain extent.

But it also makes life feel quite boring.

And that is the most sad thing of all. Life isn’t boring. At least I hope not.

I’m going to a Nightwish concert tomorrow night just for the hell of it. I haven’t seen them in a while. I haven’t even heard any new material from them in a very long time (since the last time I saw Nightwish in concert). And for the “new” singer to sing the songs the original singer created feels like a betrayal. OG > “New” Singer.

Once again I’ve been focusing on the interior design of my apartment. I really quite love the way I moved everything. Now it’s just about perfect. And fuck… I wonder why I’m vitamin-D deficient. I go to work before there’s any sun, and drive in the sunlight for 20 minutes when I get off work and… then seclude myself in my apartment the rest of the evening. Never thought I’d have to literally go tanning or something… just to get a dose of sunlight. I’m even driving with my sunroof opened so my skin can absorb some goddamn vitamins.

At this point my blog entries can all just end in a resounding SIGH.

I’m romanticizing doctor’s appointments.

Currently: my white blood cell count is too high, my red blood cells are “falling” at a too-fast rate, and I’m Vitamin-D deficient by a landslide. It’s interesting to know that each and every one of these tests mention immune system and inflammation problems. My results speak for what’s going on with my body physically and outwardly. There’s this substantial proof that physically something is wrong with me. I’m not just making it up, but I am honestly having some kind of reaction.

Additionally I need to get an ultrasound, my testosterone levels are above normal, and I’m now taking Meloxicam for rheumatoid arthritis (if in case that’s what’s going on with me right now).  I also discovered I’m allergic to dust mites and shrimp, of all things. Luckily I don’t favor seafood so I have not eaten shrimp in years.

Ugh, my joints are itchy and swelling up right now. It didn’t happen at all in the morning yesterday for the first time. This morning the joint swelling was minimal and now it’s back albeit much calmer than previous times. Currently I’m obsessing over my lab results. When I went to see my primary physician we ran labs that required 9 tubes of blood and when I saw the rheumatologist the labs required 10 tubes of blood. We’re moving up the ladder here…

I see an allergist on Monday with a 3rd doctor just so we can explore all options. And then following that I get an ultra sound. Splendid.

Mean time I’m sort of stressed over taxes. And applying a steroidal cream for the itchiness. Life is currently at a standstill. I just want to figure this thing out and move on. But ever-so-not-secretly … I know I want to get diagnosed with something. Difficult to explain. But let’s fix this, come on already. :\

Wgile I have been spending time with friends I am perfectly content just coming home to my apartment. I’ve been pretty tired lately and dealing with some weird bodily reaction. Red itchy hands, knuckles, knees, etc. I have an appt with the rheumatologist on Tuesday. Rheumatoid arthritis matches my symptoms though they don’t mention itchiness… And that’s one of my major symptoms. Ugh I’m worried but at the same time just want to figure out what the heck is wrong with my body right now and get it taken care of already.

This year I feel strictly committed to not letting work take up so much of my time. This is a job I have 0 invested in, there’s no need to put in more than 100% of my energy like this last year

Anyway… Sigh sigh sigh. I’m going to sleep (instead of trying to read). I work tomorrow.

I kind of wish I knew how to express my current state of mind… Malcontent?

Click? No. We do not click.

You know we don’t have one thing in common. We don’t click in any way. We don’t have chemistry or banter or common interests. You’re a yoga instructor, you get colonics, you don’t appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet and in this city, you don’t understand irony or eccentricity or poetry or the simple joy of being a regular at your diner on your block – I love that. You don’t drink coffee or alcohol, you don’t overeat or cry when you’re alone, you don’t understand sarcasm, you plod through life in a neat, colourless caffeine free dairy free conflict free banal self-possessed way. I’m bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when somebody has changed their hair parting or when somebody is wearing two distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural timbre of their voice on the phone. I don’t give out empty praise, I’m not complacent or well-adjusted. I can’t spend 50 minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself, I can’t even spend three minutes finishing an article. I check my phone machine nine times a day because I feel there’s so much to do and fix and change in the world and I wonder every day if I’m making a difference and if I will ever express greatness or if I will remain forever paralysed by muddled madness inside my head. I’ve wept on every birthday I ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people and certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary and also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time but the rest of the time I adore myself. I adore my life in this city, in this world that we live in, in this huge and wondrous bewildering brilliant horrible world.

(Pause)
In these ways I feel that we do not click.

 – Kissing Jessica Stein

Truth be told, I could just BOLD most of that quote, it’s so great, so applicable. And I love that movie.

Lately I have found myself saying, “I wish I were ____” a lot.

I’ve past the point of acceptance. I am me, there’s no denying that. I am fine with the way I am. But many times, I just want more. More… more of something definite.

So if I could be a few clearly defined things I would like to be…

A woman that bakes exceptionally well and decorates her home beautifully.

A friend that always has wine, cheese, and crackers for whenever you want to come over.

A person that always has friends come over.

A homeowner.

A DIY kind of girl.

A much more creative, talented version of myself.

A woman that talks sweetly, calling friends and acquaintances “sweetie” and “love.”

A woman that makes everyone feel special.

It’s official. I think I’ve painted a photo filled with thoughts and dreams and aspirations akin to a country housewife… Honestly not my intention. But I want to be THAT girl. The one that has it all, that looks and dresses perfectly, is always prepared, has things to do with her time. Instead I’m this urban American that drives a luxury car to and from work, lives by the beach (but never goes), and I sit around watching grand ol’ American TV and microwave dinners when I get home.

I am so bored with my life.

I just want to host dinners, have pleasant and enlightening conversations over coffee and cigarettes, be social.

Too many aspirations. Too many changes. Not enough time, money, or the energy.

These days I completely don’t mind doing anything alone. If I want to go to a movie, I’ll go. If I want to see a play, I’ll go. There is no sense of requirement that someone must tag along. And while doing this provides me temporary entertainment I am not painting myself as anything definite, perhaps in part because none of this is anything anyone witnesses. I am not anything to anyone. I feel like a bunch of scattered blocks.

I don’t know if this is the preemptive feelings of unrest before a big internal and emotional change. I just know that I am not satisfied with my life. But each passing day I do nothing. My life is a gigantic waste of time and there is nothing productive coming from me. I am not working towards any goal. Nothing bigger and better will come from my diseased lifestyle.

Many days I just feel so numb, so drugged… and no outlet to rid myself of the toxins.

This is not who I am. But I am also not working towards who I want to be. And so, this perpetual state of limbo stirs me into restlessness. Worried.

Things are sweeter when they’re lost. I know–because once I wanted something and got it. It was the only thing I ever wanted badly, Dot, and when I got it it turned to dust in my hand.

― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned

Some days I just get this feeling that you’re around the corner, on the next street, at a different time, never crossing paths.

Other days I just get this feeling that you don’t even exist for me.

I love when things happen. Travel happened. Experiences. Memories. Friends. Fun. Tears. Emotional breakdowns (not necessarily mine, lol…).

From then to now it feels like a whole other world has been set before me and I hardly recognize the world from the previous moment in time mentioned in the post prior to this one.

My state of mind feels so different. My mood altered. My person changed.

This is exactly the kind of thing I needed in my life. A little bit of change. Breathing different air, experiencing something far different from the daily mundane. Even the mundane feels that much more bearable because of the break in repetition.

There’s far too much I want to say and write. I just want to write and write and write. But sometimes that takes too much focused effort. So I compromise by spending more time thinking now without getting down in writing all my thoughts.

OK, this post is rather pointless but too much time elapsed between that post and now. Just wanted to share: my vacation was amazing and I’m OK being back at work. But if I had the chance I would move to Berlin. It’s a city I have learned to love despite the freezing cold temperatures. (:

“When shall we meet again? When will the earthy taste of your lips come again to brush the anxiety of my mind? Will all our sensations remain forever intellectual, and will not our dreams succeed in igniting one soul whose feeling will help us to die? What is this death in which we are forever alone, in which love does not show us the way?”

– Antonin Artaud, Art and Death.

Last night I dreamt that someone near and dear to me was the devil. My life was shrouded in long narrow hallways of pure darkness. The details escape me but I remember feeling afraid, and breaking free involved solving some kind of puzzle or riddle. Maybe I’ve been playing too much Skyrim…

It scares me how quickly one full year flew by. This year felt infinitely more inconsequential and uneventful (than the year before it), and it strikes me as odd that this year just passed me by. What I always compare is working at Sephora for a year and working at Consolidated for a year (this year). Working at the former felt like a significantly long period of time whereas my current job just felt like an insignificant tiny sliver of time. I just don’t want year after year to pass me by…

I feel like in this very moment I should be doing something with my life, making the best use of my time. This is the time. I’m in my early 20s, the time when I have the most energy, the most optimistic view, and I have my youth. But instead I feel like already I succumbed to a static existence. Progression and growth has ceased.

My last year of college was monumental. There were moments of literal enlightenment. Moments in which I sensed emotional growth in physical time as it happened.

Those moments have not happened in a year. Nothing monumental happens in my life anymore. Every day practically feels the same. Work, home, maybe go somewhere. I’m now living in a life where there is no discussion. Before there were things to get excited about, things to talk about, pressing issues I felt passionate about. Now there is a world full of people I feel don’t care anymore.

There’s so much anger in me. Breathing doesn’t do much to ease the tension clinging so hard to my shoulders, my neck, my head. And I can feel the anger hovering over me, pressing against me, weighing me down.

Everything makes me angry.

There’s a lack of control in most of the situations in my life. And it’s not that I need control, but would like just a little bit more than what I have. I think it’s that I’m naturally outspoken about my beliefs, about my opinions… and at work I have to remain quiet. I cannot speak my mind, I cannot address what is bothering me. I always just BLURT OUT (thoughtfully) what I need to say. There’s usually no need for restraint in my thought process. But at work I’m shackled to silence.

And situations cannot mend if there is an unawareness of the problem. So nothing changes. Nothing gets better. There’s this awful build up of anger within me, over me, permeating my skin, and radiating from me onto everyone. And I am not pleasant this way. And nothing gets better.

I am so sick of being angry. But I cannot simply relinquish all that bothers me. Instead I need for it to be fixed. And I have no control over this. No say in anything.

All the little things that should not phase me, phase me. And burn me out. By the end of the day I just feel so weighed down by everything that bothers me all day long…

Several times throughout the day my head feels heavy and light all at once. It’s like dizziness. It’s hard to focus. And I feel there are so many things going on in my mind. And I can’t focus on any one thing. And this causes mind confusion. And in those moments it’s hard to hear, hard to listen, hard to do anything. And then I take a deep breath and become very acutely aware of the dizziness.

I am angry.

But this just isn’t me. I’m always the first one to forgive and forget. Most especially forget. Usually it doesn’t matter. Because no matter what you say or do I don’t give in, and I don’t give up. Except there’s a conflict here. This relates to the previous post. I’m used to things going my way. But when things don’t go my way, that’s unacceptable, things have to get better. So it’s this constant tugging back and forth between not getting my way and not giving in. But I have no control over either. Neither will change. And I need change, crave change, must have change.

Everything about me just conflicts with itself in this never-ending circle of mass confusion. It’s like the Pisces sign. One fish goes one way, the other fish goes the opposite way. There is no meeting in between but consistently going in two directions in one ever-cycling, ever-changing circle. The two fish repel one another and yet co-exist in that circle. One side is upright and logical, and the other is backwards/upside down and emotional/non-sensical.

Sigh. Sigh. Sigh.

So that got me thinking. The gears in my brain kinda started to roll and I backtracked to several things that I have wanted throughout the years. And I realize that I am unable to process a “No” response. There is no such thing as “no” to me. I process that response as “not yet” or that perhaps I have not yet convinced a “yes” response. When I was a kid this led to so many temper tantrums. There’s a really strong will in me to pursue anything and everything that I want. Is this selfish? Maybe. Is this self-destructive? It can be. Is this hurtful to others? It has been in the past.

I was unrelenting in my pursuit of E.L. for quite a while. And not only did I get E.L., once I had it, I no longer wanted it. It’s the novelty of the  pursuit. Convincing you that what I want is what you want. Even if it’s not.

This unrelenting will to pursue can be positive, I will admit to that. In a sense, there’s this sort of guarantee that no matter what things will turn out OK, that in some shape or form the tide will turn in my favor – it just takes time. And no amount of rejection or negative response will keep me from pursuing my end goal. It also takes me a very long time to process rejection. It’s almost like my brain functions on fairy land, a world where reality does not matter, only the reality that I want to exist exists.

I still have fear just like everyone else. I fear not getting the job, I fear hearing that dreaded “no” and I fear hearing “I don’t want you.” I’m just like everyone else in this regard. But maybe I can assuage my fears in knowing that I always get what I want. In some manner or another, things turn out OK.

And I know how amazingly spoiled and bratty I sound. But is it really so wrong to stop at nothing to get what you want? Is it really so wrong to chase hard after what may possibly bring you joy (even if in the end it does not)?

I cannot accept defeat. Except just this once I think I have lost.

But always there remains this glimmer of hope in my heart and I just cannot seem to let go.

Yes, I sound like a horrible person. But this blog needs to be about honesty. If it means highlighting my worst points, so be it.

There are a few obvious things: my job is nowhere near my dream profession, I have a lot of bills to pay, my job is just barely sufficient to cover my expensive cost of living.

I feel like it’s this sort of “all or nothing” situation I am dealing with.

In order to find the dream job I feel like I have to let go of my apartment, let go of my financial “stability” and let go of my current lifestyle. It seems like a lot of sacrifice is required to achieve what I feel is going to make me happy. Unhappiness as a means to attaining happiness? Something strikes me as odd.

There’s a lot of inner turmoil within me these days.

At some point I have to just give in and succumb to the idea that this is my job. Or… give in and relinquish everything I have to find something new.

As much as I want to live in another country, move somewhere better, find a job I love… I just feel so.. STUCK.

Change is just in my nature.

But uncertainty is just not in my cards. I think commitment came way too fast for me. Rent, car insurance, student loan debt, etc. Just thinking about all my financial commitments stresses me out. There is ZERO room for adventure, for change. As much as I want to look for another job, I cannot for a month be without one. And I feel like my opportunity to travel is just so limited.

I was hired for my first full-time job a week after I graduated college and started 2-3 weeks after that.

Right now my big wish is to be a care-free adult in my early 20s.

And I KNOW something has to change. And I know it has to change eventually. But these are big decisions. And I hate that feeling of wasting time. One more year in my apartment is one more year I am without a patio, one more year I am parking on the street. One more year at my job is one more year I am doing something I don’t feel passionate about, one more year of doing the same tasks day in, day out. It’s just a matter of when I’m going to take action and just DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.

That’s usually how I work, though. Spontaneous acts of change.

What sucks is that I know some things need to settle down before any and/or all of these changes occur. And that is seriously holding me back.

So tired of restlessness.

I love knowing street names of places I visited yesterday.

I love sunny days that put me in a better mood.

I love music that makes me dance.

I love my apartment.

I love Long Beach.

I love my BMW.

I love days that feel this amazing.

I love getting off work exactly at 2pm.

I love that feeling of extreme happiness you feel you could burst.

I love that feeling of extreme happiness you can’t even speak.

I love driving at a consistent speed of 80 mph on the 710 fwy.

If only every day felt this way, and for no particular reason.