I Put On Lipstick Today. Am I Accomplished?
The weather is changing, and I can feel a breeze. Something I forgot would feel so good. The breeze always comes when you least expect it.
But with the breeze comes the chill. And with it finally being under 100 degrees in Texas, I'm beginning to think it’s coming early.
If anyone who deals with seasonal depression is reading this, then you understand how it doesn’t always come on time with the season. Sometimes the self-doubt and sabotage make a guest appearance on Your Life, the reality TV show, which has been running one too many seasons, and the audience is laughing more than usual.
Being a young 20 something in this weather is like being a rookie trapeze artist standing on a tightrope 100 miles long, tiptoeing to the other side, begging God you don't slip.
Truthfully speaking, how do we balance at all? How do we balance it all? Do we want to? Are we scared to? As 20 somethings, are we hardwired not to? Have those 23 year old millionaires cracked some code?
I had a really off-putting experience recently at my current job. I was written up for reading at my desk. My manager said reading on the clock is time theft, and I can go to JAIL. The entire situation was bizarre to say the least. I had to sign the write up, and under it I wrote, IN PROTEST.
Even though this felt like a total kick in the face, I have to accept that even when you’re in a corporate position, if you are in your early twenties, no one is going to take you seriously. Oh, and that reading is a crime.
This happened as I was entering yet another seasonal depression era, and it put me down even lower than I could’ve imagined. But I know in my heart and soul that I work and have worked very hard for what I have. Aren’t I accomplished yet? Aren’t I past the stupid write-ups, and shitty bosses?
This morning I put lipstick on before work. Do I matter now? I know I don't have all the answers, but is my current enough to be content?
The feeling of accomplishment itself roots from the desire to be accomplished in the first place. It must stem from one’s, for lack of a better word, obsession with success. And as we know all too well, us twenty-somethings need to feel successful to feel like an adult. Like someone who’s going somewhere in life. Like someone important.
But I'm learning that accomplishment doesn't need to have a big, extravagant, physical form, instead it can show itself to you in little things. Like when your day goes as planned, when the new recipe you tried turns out right, or when you write a book, and it sells 300 copies. ;)
Small wins, even the microscopic ones make you the 23-year-old millionaire you’ve always dreamed to be. And even though your bank account doesn’t reflect it yet, someday soon it will, and the pieces of the puzzle that is your life and career will fall into place, and you’ll look back and laugh. From the inside of your new Jaguar.
xo, zo
