Dang, 2015. You sure are throwin’ me for a loop. You aren’t turning out at all as I thought you would. Luckily, we have plenty of time to get this thing in check, get this thing in gear, get this thing warmed up (I’m f-ing freezing, San Diego!) and get this thing going, please.
You know when you’re really looking forward to something so much that it feels like it will never ever actually get here? It’s been a little over 3 years since the day I walked out of my old apartment for the last time. I never could have imagined all that would happen for me over the next few years. I never could have imagined what would happen over the last year or even the last month. It is surreal how it all happens. When I moved back to San Diego, I had these beautiful dreams of walking back into town and finding a place just like my old one. Instead, I found myself couch surfing for weeks until I finally surrendered myself to a roommate situation that was able to redeem itself only by being less than a block from the beach. I ended up living there until a few weeks ago, several months after I was ready to move out. There were days that I honestly thought I was doomed to live in that house forever. Twelve days after one of those doomy days, I was signing a new lease and picking up the keys to my own place. I thought it would never happen but here I am. It never feels the way you think it would, does it? I love my new little corner of the world. I knew it was right the moment I saw it. Unfortunately, it takes some time to get settled in. Everything is so disorganized. My normal routine is non-existent. I don’t have a place for each thing or a thing for each place. There isn’t enough space for my clothes. There is too much clothes for my space. Half the time I don’t even know where to sit. The disorganization somehow trickles into the rest of life and I can’t seem to shake it. I like organization and routine. I like every thing in its place. I like lots of places to sit.
So while I sit on the floor waiting for my new furniture, I’ll drink my anti-anxiety-tea and wonder what is happening. Did you forget already, 2015? I told you what we wanted.
We wanted to be open and free. Curled in a ball under the covers is certainly not what I had in mind. I don’t really associate my freedom with thick socks and layers of sweaters and feeling chained to my warm cozy bed. OOF. Why does each winter always seem longer than the one before? I know what you’re thinking. I live in San Diego. I’m not allowed to complain about winter. I say…yes, I AM. I’m allowed to complain about winter. A model is allowed to have an ugly day. A skinny girl is allowed to feel bad about her body. It is cold. It is dark. It is winter. It makes me sad and somber and I want it gone. A few more weeks until daylight savings. I’m giving you a pass until then, 2015.
And what about that connected, excited, romantic part, 2015? I can almost hear the heavens laughing at me from here. I was stood up a few weeks ago. Hows that for connection and romance? I was pretty pissed at first. Did you forgot your manners too, 2015? He didn’t even apologize but thought it appropriate to ask me out twice after that. I almost said yes the second time. I wanted to. Then I decided that being bored or lonely isn’t a good enough reason to lower my standards. It certainly isn’t a reason to accept an invitation to dinner from a guy that stood me up without good cause. Maybe you think he should get another chance. Maybe this is why I’m still single. Maybe you think my standards are too high. But right now I think that if ignoring him means my standards are too high then I prefer to be alone. I wonder if the guy that I want will ever actually be the guy that I actually like. And I wonder if the guy that I like will never be the guy that I need. Do people just pick one of those things and forget about all the rest? Is it ever easy and simple and mutual? Maybe people settle more than they actually find the type of person they’ve been looking for. How do you go about finding this person and protecting yourself from assholes at the same time? How do you know when you’re being the asshole versus when you’re just putting your own needs first? And how do you know when you’re putting yourself first or putting up a wall? I am missing something here. Something about the world around me. Something about myself. I want to know the answers to these questions. For the love of love 2015, we’re totally blowing this one.
And remember when we wanted to feel infinite? Like we could go on forever and be anything and do anything and have anything and everything we wanted and that our time and life was limitless and couldn’t be measured by any person or any thing? I want to learn so much and do it all. It doesn’t feel infinite. It feels like too much. Every minute I spend on one topic is a minute I can’t spend on another. I can’t read a book on money unless I’m not reading a book on relationships. I can’t read a book on health unless I’m not reading a book about money. I can’t write a blog here if I’m writing a match.com profile over there. So what’s a girl to do? How can I ever expect to have more than one thing at a time? How can anyone? We make time for the things that are important, but what if they are all so important to you that your heart cries and aches when you feel like you aren’t doing enough but don’t know how you can possibly do any more? My solution for this is usually to:
a. Do nothing. See “curled in a ball under covers” above.
b. Cry. Sometimes all I need is a really good cry but I’ll be too stubborn to cry hard enough to even make it count. Other times, I’ll be in the most inconvenient of places and have to the urge to let it all out. That girl walking down the pier with mascara running out from underneath her sunglasses? Yeah, probably me. That other girl sulking and lost in front of the empty bin where the organic baby spinach is supposed to be? Me again. The other one sobbing uncontrollably in the car next to you at the stop light? Yes, that was me too.
As you can see, “a” is clearly the better option of two terrible options.
What if I’m one of the weak ones? When I did social work, I had a teen girl that was in foster care because she found her drug addicted mother dead in a cardboard box in her front yard. I worked with another girl who was put into a group home and was molested by one of the staff members there. I had another kid who was one of the best looking, most charming young men I’ve ever met in my entire life and his past was worse than A Child Called It. I know one person’s life problems can’t be related or compared to another person’s. But seriously, what if I’m one of the weak ones? My life is blessed but still I can’t seem to move forward. I can’t calm down my ego or stop drinking or lose the extra pounds I’m carrying around or be as successful and rich as I want to be, as fast as I want? I need an option “c” here.
C. Grow up and get the fuck over it, Katey. There is absolutely no reason why you can’t have it all.
So, 2015. You’re nothing like I thought you would be…yet. I think you’re doing the right thing, though. What better way to start the year than with a big huge bitch slap? It’s not you, 2015. It’s me. I guess I was the one who forgot, huh? I won’t be doing that again. Even through this odd, uncomfortable, nowhere-to-sit beginning of the year, I’ve always felt like the universe had my back. I have faith, hope and love that we’re gonna pull this thing together, 2015. It sounds like a much better plan.