The Best Post You’ve Ever Read

It’s not enough that I am at work forty hours or more a week, it’s not enough that I have to think about it two hours prior to going, and two hours after…now I’m awake, on a Friday night, Saturday morning mind racing, heart racing, dreams spilling around in my head about work. Is it about work? Is it the mold that they found in my apartment? Is it because I have to sleep on a futon until the mold is cleaned and I woke up with my face against a cold wall? Is it too many brussel sprouts for dinner? I feel more trapped in this ¬†mental cubicle than I have ever felt in my life. More anxious and unsure of what is to happen next with each passing day. I can’t keep up, I have friends and relationships slipping through the cracks because I am working so hard to keep afloat. All the while, disliking and wishing to be further from the ME that is not who I AM.¬†fabulous

I watch them everyday, the ones who dream of their bank accounts. Carefully accruing their pennies in their minds rather than counting sheep at night. They smell of strong detergents, stale coffee, and microwave lunches. They stumble from their desks to the “break room” (which you would never actually take a break in, as it’s so small one would have to devour over the sink like a ravenous animal on the kill). They pour their 20 oz of coffee into their designated coffee mugs. Mugs with words like, “Mom” “Java” “13.1” and “I Hiked to the Top of Crowder Mountain and all I Got was this Mug”. It’s the workforce of America. While we type away, there are a million things at home left undone, a thousand passions left uncaptured, and opportunities that lie by the wayside. There are connections to be made, relationships to be stoked, and dreams to pursue. They seem OK with it, but the feeling stirs me awake every night, feeding off my brain cells that should be used for snoozing.

But I let it all lie dormant, stagnant, all for helping to push this giant hamster wheel around in yet another circle.

We are the ME’s that are losing touch with who I AMs. I am the me that can only dance on this line for so much longer. I’m so ready for this phase to be over, the one where every other day I am just asking myself, “WHY?” Is it just that final feeling as the 20’s taper off? Will it ever end?

A girl needs her beauty sleep!

dream

Cells, Cubes, and Faces.

Lately my most wild and adventurous ideas has been to delete my Facebook. I know right, you think that’s wild? My second most out-there thought was to wear no socks to work, and that proved to be a disaster; hence the reason I’ve decided to formulate my decision making process into a narrative. Although, I love Facebook as much as the next Jane Doe that is out there, but this past week I’ve realized that it, along with my smart phone, is a very distracting feature in my life. Now, the question remains as to whether or not it’s a welcome distraction, or one I wish to get rid of. After all, not everything is BAD, it can be used in moderation…right???Gamers

Why Facebook is like Working in a Cubicle

Half of my Facebook friends are folks I never talk to on a regular basis. In fact, they are much like the people in a corporate cubically-oriented and squarely structured environment. I see their faces everyday and being my nosy self, am very interested in eavesdropping on their lives, comparing my life to theirs, and gawking at all the clothes they have that are better than mine. I use these mysterious non-interaction interactions for self-beration, self deprivation, and of course….killing time. There are the folks I actually do want to know about and talk to, and then there are just the ones that pop up in my News Feed everyday as they post what their iPhone paparazzi has caught them doing today. It doesn’t stop there. Facebook has my pictures stored in the world wide web, it has everyone seeing what music I listen to, it wants to know where I work. Heck, my cell phone KNOWS where I work! It tells me no matter where I am how long it is to get either to work or home, depending on my circumstance. My phone knows what I typed into my computer and Googled that morning, last night, and last week, and who I “might know”. I’m scared it might know more, but I’m too frightened and paranoid to ask Siri what she really knows.

Facebook makes me feel more guilt than I should because when I want to go delete someone, I feel guilty. Like they’ll find out. When I want to stop seeing someone’s daily life in mine, I am hit with another twinge of guilt. If someone finds me and tries to friend me, and I really don’t feel like being friends… I freeze with guilt-ridden panic. It’s like being stuck by the coffee pots at work and the awkwardness ensues where you’re both taking a while to mix up your Joe and subject to painfully surface level conversation or deafening silence. Why can’t I just be normal and not think about such things?

Facebook frightens me by knowing all, by pressuring me, by enticing me with it’s time-killing offer, but I like it to connect to the world around me. I think. Am I really even connecting?

My smart phone distracts me from the present moment, but I really like knowing that there is at least something smarter than me. I like playing Scrabble when I want to. I like zoning out of a moment and looking on Craigslist. And I like checking my email at the drop of a hat.

But is this all good for me? I’m starting to wonder, and my finger is hovering over “delete”.

To be continued….